Desperate Times
by Oh-Woffie
Summary: AU. After his heart attack Burt is unable to continue full time at Hummel Tires and Lube, but he can't afford to pay to hire on another employee. He is left with one option: to buy an adoptive. Slave!Blaine and PapaBear!Burt, no kink or smut.
1. Chapter 1

**I don`t own Glee or any of its characters. **

**I know I don`t have the greatest track record for updating, but I`ve already written a few chapters for this, so I figure we`re off to a good start on this one.**

Burt Hummel had never before hated himself as much as he did in that one moment.

Not in junior high when he walked in on one of the many boys he had bullied, Tommy Ringwald, trying to hang himself in the locker room washroom.

Not when he stood with his then girlfriend Katherine as she told her parents, _'I'm pregnant'_, and held her after her hour was up, sitting on his father's porch with the only belongings she had left in the world, whispering to her, _'It'll be okay, we'll be alright.'_

Not when he had to tell his son that, 'no, mommy's never coming home,' only to have the now sobbing boy wretch himself from his father's arms and shout _'I hate you'_, to which Burt replied, _'Me too._'

Those were times where he didn't know better, times where he had no control over the outcome of events. This – this was conscious. This he knew was wrong. He knew why it was wrong, but here he was nonetheless.

Turning the key in the ignition Burt closed his eyes and listen to the low rumble of his flatbed truck die off quickly. With a sigh he gripped the steering wheel with all the force his body could muster, which, though a month and a half had passed since his heart attack, was not much in the form of release at all. Burt wanted nothing more than to hit something, anything. To indulge in his primal urge to yell and break things until everything was alright again – until everything went back to how it was before his heart attack. Until he could manage a full day at the shop, not having to sit in his office with the blinds drawn so he wouldn't have to feel his son's ever-worrying gaze on him as he was forced to take yet another break.

He couldn't do this to Kurt. When Katherine had died he had made a promise to himself to never let his son feel that devastation again. If he pushed himself too hard he'd end up in the hospital again, and this time he might not be lucky enough to walk out. But with the hospital bills and mortgage payments, Burt couldn't afford to take time off again, nor could he afford to pay anyone to work for him.

It was Carole who had brought the idea to him, and as much as they both detested it, there really was no other option. They couldn't afford to pay a regular employee, but, for a small investment, they could pay for someone who could work for free.

They didn't call it slavery – no. That was too harsh a word for those who preached freedom, but that's what it was, and many of them had 'adopted' these non-slaves themselves, claiming to be giving them the opportunity for a better life (though it was very rare that they did). It had started with the poor trying to save themselves from poverty by selling their person to anyone willing to buy, and had escalated from there. The children of these adoptives inherited their parents' debt, and for a while in the early to mid-nineties it had been a suitable alternative for abortion, but that was stopped quite quickly as The Homes were filled quite rapidly with screaming, useless children. Now the government had limited entry only to those born with one or both parents in the system. If an adoptive had a child with a free person, it was up to that person whether or not they wanted to keep the child or to sell it to the government.

As Burt stepped out of his truck, he was greeted by the sight of a cold stone building he had only before seen in pictures online. Being three hours away, the Home in Cleveland was too far to visit in advance. Burt could only hope he had done enough research and was able to find someone he could both afford and use. The gravel crunched beneath his boots as he made his way down the path and to the large solid metal door that would take him inside this dreary building. Pushing it open he peeked inside. It wasn't as horrible as he had thought it would be. The entranceway wasn't overtly large and was painted in a deep burgundy colour. Various false plants, pictures, and chairs were scattered about the room giving it a somewhat homey feel. Glancing to his left, Burt caught the gaze of a short, bubbly looking woman with dark brown hair cut short to just below her ears. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling cheerfully behind the thick rim of her glasses.

"Hello, sir," she greeted lightly as she stood and began to make her way around the large oak desk she had been seated behind towards him, "I'm Holly, how can I help you today, Mr?"

Burt started at her continued enthusiasm. This was not the place he expected to find cheer.

"H-hummel. Burt, ah, Burt Hummel." He paused. "I – uh, well.. I –" He drifted off, tugging his baseball cap off his head with his thumb and index finger, moving his hand back to use his remaining three fingers to scratch at his neck.

"First time," she asked, smiling sympathetically. "That's alright; I can set you up with a tour so you can take a look around. If you see anyone you like, or want to know more about a specific adoptee feel free to ask or browse the file on their door." With a quick grin she shuffled back to their desk and picked up the receiver of her phone.

"Mark? Hi! Would you mind coming up to the lobby? I have a first-time gentleman here wanting to look around," she paused, shooting Burt a wink as she continued. "Excellent, we'll be waiting!" As she hung up the phone she looked at him again. "He'll only be a moment," she promised. Less than ten seconds later, a tall thin man burst through the door adjacent to the desk with a bright, chipper smile attached to his falsely tanned face. Holly's own smile brightened as she gestured between the two men.

"Mark, this is Mr. Hummel. Mr. Hummel, I'd like you to meet our sales rep., Mr. Markus DeLainey." Markus grinned as he strode over to Burt, grabbing his hand for a firm handshake.

"Mr. Hummel, I would like to welcome you to our Home. We hope that you can find and adoptive to suit your needs, and hope that we can help you enjoy all the perks that adoption has to offer."

The smile never left Markus' face. Suddenly the room seemed too cheerful. The plants were too green, the walls were to colorful, and the smiles on both Holly and Markus' faces were too genuine. It took everything Burt had not to turn on his heels and leave the Home, never looking back. But as his mind drifted to Carole's tired eyes, Kurt's worried gaze, and Finn's inability to understand just how deep they were in, he sighed and tried to wipe the grimace off his face.

"So," he started shakily, "how about that tour?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Glee: Still not mine!**

**Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers, alerters, and anonymous readers, y'all are awesome!**

**I do love feedback, both positive AND negative. If you have some awesome criticism let me know, we could be the best of friends!**

Markus led him down a carpeted hallway past a few official looking rooms that appeared to be offices. There were pictures of smiling proud men and women lining the walls, all with their adoptives kneeling obediently beside them, their own expressions blank. Burt supressed a shudder. Soon he'd be the not-so-proud owner of an expressionless man or woman. As far as he could tell, they never smiled, they never cried, and for the most part, they rarely spoke. Whatever had been done to them must have been horrible if it had erased their ability to feel at all.

"Our training facilities are quite standard, Mr. Hummel. The adoptives are trained at a facitity just outside the city, and when that has been completed they are sent to us. Most of this is just for touch ups and reminders so that they don't forget what they've learned," Markus said as they passed a door that led to a small classroom, empty save for one chalkboard and one desk – presumably the instructor's. "Dedication to education is of top priority here, as is physical exercise." He motioned across Burt to a window. Stepping closer, Burt saw a small field, complete with a track that ran along the edges. There were seven people on it; six of them sprinted quite quickly around as the seventh stood still, looking as if they were shouting something. As they rounded the corner, one of the runners at the front of the line, a female, by the length of her hair, tripped and fell only a few feet in front of the runners behind her. Burt watched, expecting the other to go around or try to jump over her, but they didn't. They didn't even slow as the first one's foot landed directly on her splayed arm.

"Let's move on, shall we?" Markus asked, pulling Burt from the window. He tried to turn around, but Markus placed a firm hand on his shoulder and shot him another genuine grin. Knowing that Markus had been well aware of the scene that had been playing out before them, Burt's comfort level dropped below his initial feeling as he had put the emergency brake on in the parking lot.

'_For Kurt,'_ he reminded himself as he was led through a white metal door, _'for Carole, and Finn, and Kurt.'_

"This is a list of our newest adoptives – don't worry, they've all been quite properly trained." Markus picked up a large book from the coffee table at the beginning of a long hallway that looked like it was home to many thin, white doors. He handed the book to Burt, who flipped through it with shaking hands, trying not to look at the pictures of men and women, boys and girls, with empty eyes and expressionless faces.

"Um," he started, "this, uh. This might be a bit out of my price range. I was, uh, kinda hoping to go with something a little cheaper." Markus' smile tightened slightly.

"What were you thinking?"

"Um, maybe I could take a look at your, uh, your defectives." He flinched as he said the word. Defectives were just that - defective. Very few people ever wanted to purchase them, and for good reason. Plagued by either diseases or some type of disfigurement, both work and birth related, defectives were never bought with the idea of long-term use in mind. The most dangerous of jobs were usually filled by them, as their life expectancy and worth were so low that it didn't much matter if they didn't survive. As horrible as he felt, Burt knew that a defective adoptive was the only thing he could afford. He would only need them until his condition improved, and after that, the boys would be able to help by working part time over the summer. Burt's eyes almost started to water as he thought again about how he would be buying the life of someone with little time left, only to have them work until they couldn't anymore. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. He was going to work someone to death so that he himself could survive. At least he hoped he and his family could offer the adoptive some form of comfort and kindness that few adoptees would ever experience in their lives.

Markus just smiled as he flipped to the back of the book.

"Of course, Mr. Hummel," was all he said as he turned on his heels and began walking down the long, white hallway. Burt followed him quickly, trying not to look through the small windows on the doors that would allow him to see the adoptives within. At the end of the hall, Markus turned and led Burt down a small ways before opening a brown door. Inside was a square room. The three walls in front of them each had three small doors that no doubt housed the defective adoptives, three of which had manila envelopes attached to clip boards by their doors.

"We have three defectives as of now, one female, two male."

Burt took a hesitant step forward to look through the window of the first door. Markus stepped beside him, picking up the envelope and casually flipping through its pages.

"Adoptive: 20879. Caucasian female, 27 years of age. Previously adopted by a middle aged couple, used for cleaning services, tested positive for the HIV virus."

Burt stared at her. The woman sat at the edge of her bed staring off into nothing. She was facing the door, but the movement outside it did nothing to break her emotionless trance.

"Adoptive: 14983. Hispanic male, 42 years of age. Previously adopted by an oil refinery here in Cleveland, tested positive for lung cancer."

Slowly Burt approached the second door, barely glancing inside to see the man sitting at the edge of his bed as the woman had, staring into nothing. He looked away quickly, his resolve to follow through with his plan breaking with every moment that passed. These were people. These were sick people. And they were going to die. He couldn't do this, couldn't make someone work only to know that soon they would die and he would go on living. No, he had to get out.

"And finally," began Markus just as Burt had begun to protest, "Adoptive: 45277. Caucasian male, 15 years of age. Previously adopted by a young couple, used for simple maintenance and cleaning services. Severe misuse resulted in blindness in his right eye and permanent scarring on his right cheek and ear, no hearing impairment." Burt stared at Markus, whose smile never left his face as he read the words in the file.

"Him," Burt stated, the word sounded rough as it left his mouth, "I want to take a look at him."

Markus stepped forward and pressed a button on the small white door. There was a quiet buzz as the door unlocked, and Markus quickly pulled it open. With a step back he looked inside the cell-like room.

"Come," Markus ordered. There was a light shuffling sound as the boy stood, then walked with his head bowed low out the door, stopping to kneel at Markus' feet. "To Mr. Hummel," Markus ordered, pointing towards Burt. The boy quickly bowed to Markus, his forehead brushing against the man's shiny black shoes before quickly shuffling himself over to Burt. Again, the boy bowed against the shoes of the man before him, though Burt was wearing his dusty work boots and knew that couldn't be pleasant for the boy.

"What's he doing?" Burt asked quietly. Markus flashed his teeth brightly.

"As with all the others he is quite well trained and can perform a vast range of tasks with minimal instruction. He does, however, seem to have some issues when it comes to greeting people he hasn't met before." The man bent down to ruffle the boy's thick black curls. "He's a little skittish, but we would be happy to assist in working out that kink with follow up sessions if you wish to purchase." Burt shook his head.

"I'm about three hours out of Cleveland," he said with a grimace.

"Oh." For the first time, Markus looked genuinely upset. "We could take another look at 14983, if you like?"  
>"No." Burt stated quickly. He looked down at the boy still bowed in front of him. Slowly he knelt down, grimacing as his back gave a small pop in the process. With a tentative hand, Burt touched the boy's shoulder. Though it wasn't visible, Burt could feel the muscles under his fingers tense at the contact. Slowly he began to stroke the boy's shoulder in a slow, soft motion. With his free hand, he moved it to cup the boy's chin, slowly raising his head. The entire right side of his face was covered in a thick black nylon mask that started just over half way across his forehead to the base of his jawline, held together by a Velcro strip that attached behind his head, though it was hidden deep within his curls. His left eye was open, though it was cast as far downward as would be allowed. From what he could see of it, Burt guessed that it was hazel in color. His lips were pulled tight with tension at the close contact with the man before him. Burt moved his thumb, sliding it up and down the smooth skin of the boy's uncovered cheek. His expression did not change, but at least it was an expression. Raising his hand a little more as he continued to stroke, Burt chanced another look directly into the boy's eye. There was nothing. Perhaps the facial expression had been a bit of hope that he hadn't found someone entirely broken. That he could find a way to right the wrong he hadn't even committed yet. With a sigh he slowly dropped his hand, allowing the boy's head to fall against his boots again.<p>

"How much?" Markus flipped to the last page of the file.

"$1,500." Burt laughed humorlessly.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Hummel?" Burt shook his head. He didn't want to say it in front of the boy, but he was quite sure that the last television he had bought had cost more than that.

"Does he have a name?"

"Whatever you choose to call him will be suitable and he will respond to it so long as he knows it is he who is being addressed."

"What about his face, is he in any pain?" Burt lightly thumbed the rough nylon material, wincing as it caught on his dry skin. He could only imagine how that felt on a scar.

"I assure you we have given him sufficient treatment for his injuries."

'_But is he in pain.'_ The question lingered in his mind, but from what Markus had just said he already had his answer. Instead of pressing the question further, he just looked up and asked,

"Where do I sign?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

**Thank you to my reviewers (all four of you beautiful people – StoryDreamer I appreciate your lack of laziness, you made me smile!) As well to my hidden friends (I see your alerts, I like them too).  
>This chapter's pretty slow, and I'm going to try to pick up the pace with the next few, as I realize now that it's done that in what, 3,000 words I've managed to cover about 40min-1hr of time. :| This will change, I promise!<br>Again, thank you wonderful people for your time!**

As soon as Burt had made his decision, Markus had produced a worn leather leash and attached it to the back of the boy`s facemask. Markus had led the way, and from the look of it, the makeshift halter had to be causing the wearer quite a bit of discomfort as it pulled awkwardly from behind his head, catching at his curls and ripping a few from his skull.

Once they had reached the row of offices things had progressed quite quickly. There had been very minimal paperwork to go through, considering that after all was signed he, Burt Hummel, would be responsible for the life and wellbeing of a fifteen year old boy who had yet to show any indication that he possessed even the slightest of emotions. It was a lot to process, but before he knew it, Burt was handing over $1,500 cash in exchange for the worn leash attached to the small boy. Burt took it with an internal sigh, gave an emotionless thanks to Markus, and attempted to smile at Holly as he and the boy walked through the front door.

The boy walked a step and a half behind Burt, and though Burt could hear his soft steps on the gravel behind him, he couldn't help but turn every second or so to make sure that he wasn't walking too fast, that the boy was still behind him.

Fumbling for his keys, Burt stopped at the driver's side door of the car. Hearing the scratch of gravel beside him, he looked over to see the boy quickly sinking to his knees with his head bowed low and palms pressed to the ground, parallel to Burt's current stance.

"Hey, kid." The boy's head rose slightly in acknowledgement that he was being addressed. "You don't need to do that. You can get up if you want to." The boy leaned further forward to rest his forearms on the gravel.

"Thank you, sir."

He didn't move. Burt took a deep breath and sighed, watching as the boy tensed slightly at the sound.

"You can stand up, kid," he repeated. The boy touched his forehead to the ground, lifting it slightly as he spoke again.

"Thank you, sir." This time he did rise quickly to his feet. His hands clasped firmly in front of his torso as his chin rested on his chest. Burt held in another sigh as he finally found his keys and unlocked the truck. Immediately, the boy began to walk to the back of the truck where he stood half hidden beside the canopy.

"May I get in, sir," he asked as Burt stood frozen, unsure what to do.

"You, uh, you'll be riding up front. With me," he managed to say as he walked towards the boy, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as he guided him to the passenger side door. "Unless you're tired and want to sleep, or something. There's room in the back for you to lie down if you want."

"Thank you, sir," he replied again. Burt opened the door and shifted the seat forward so that the boy could get to the bench in the back. He hadn't realized just how short the boy was until he began trying to crawl into the car without touching anything. Burt placed a gentle hand on his back to steady him and was met with a quiet hiss as the boy froze in place. Letting go quickly, Burt gestured to the handle above the door.

"You can grab onto that if it helps you." The boy bit his lip. Taking an experimental few hops he was able to gain enough momentum to jump up and reach the handle before using it to pull himself into the back of the truck.

"Thank you, sir."

"No problem, kiddo." Burt pushed the seat back and walked around to the driver's side of the truck. When he got there he chanced a peek at the boy, surprised to see he wasn't there. Panic set in as he looked around the car. Had he run off already? What would happen if the Home were to find him hiding somewhere on their grounds? What would they do to him?

"Kid," he called softly, not wanting to alert the Home of his disappearance.

"Yes, sir." The equally quiet reply sounded near, and he looked in the backseat again where he was met with one hazel eye looking up at him from the floor of the truck. The space itself was about a foot and a half wide, and even with his small size Burt was surprised that the boy was able to fit himself inside. His torso was sideways within the gap, his arms bent and folded tightly to his chest. The boy's knees were sticking up, just barely passing the height of the seat above him. The whole position made his body appear painfully contorted, and Burt felt safe in the assumption that it probably was.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Lying down as ordered, sir," the boy responded in the same, expressionless voice. Burt swallowed loudly and licked his suddenly dry lips.

"You can, uh… you can lie down on the seat, kid." The boy nodded.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Thank you, sir." With a grunt of effort the boy removed himself from the gap and awkwardly positioned himself on the bench. Burt bit his lip as he slid himself into his seat.

In hindsight, he probably should have asked more about the boy. He was wearing something that resembled a very thin beige nightgown, but even through the shapeless thing Burt could tell the boy could stand to gain a few pounds. He hadn't even asked to see the damage to his face. Markus had asked if he had any questions, but Burt had felt odd speaking about the boy as though he wasn't present or capable of answering for himself. Asking to see his face would have felt like a violation of privacy. He wasn't a doctor. He couldn't take the pain away. As soon as they reached home he would sent the boy to Carole. She would know what to do.

"Seatbelt," he reminded quietly as he turned on the car. A small click and a muffled reply was heard as began to reverse out of the lot, trying to prepare himself for the long three hour drive ahead of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is embarrassingly short. Like, bad sex short. For that I am sorry. I felt bad not being able to update this week, so I figured I'd just put this out and try to get part two of this up in the next day or two. But on the plus side, midterms are finished, so I can write again! Huzzah! **

**Thanks again to my beautiful reviewers, alerters, and readers. How wonderful you all are! I would pay you all back in lovely elephant smiles, but alas, fanfic does not seem to appreciate links. Instead, a ****very heartfelt !thank!you! will have to be sufficient for now.**

**cosette-aimee and Hiki-nii, thank you for your feedback. I really wasn't sure if it was coming across as too tedious, so I appreciate the reassurance. If anyone does have issue with the pace or anything else, for that matter, please let me know!**

They made a quick pit stop at the gas station down the road from the Home where Burt purchased a bottle of extra strength Tylenol and a bottle of water for the boy waiting in his truck. Making his way through the parking lot, Burt could see the boy's outline through the lightly tinted back window. He sat just as he had on the bed in the Home, facing forward, eyes unmoving. Burt wondered internally whether or not the boy had so much as shifted his weight during his absence. Upon reaching the truck Burt opened the door as gently as he could, not wanting to startle the boy inside. As Burt clambered in the boy lowered his head and angled it towards Burt in a symbol of submissive attention. Burt was almost glad that the boy refused to look at him so that he wouldn't see his attempt of a smile that he was sure appeared more as a grimace. Throwing the plastic bag onto the passenger seat Burt began to rifle through, fingers curling around the plastic bottle.

"I got you some Tylenol for your, ah, your face." Burt flinched as he remembered when Finn had gone through a phase of answering every question with the phrase, "your mom" before his mother had deemed it inappropriate. He had begun retaliating with the use of "your face" instead, and continued to do so on occasion. Burt himself had stifled a grin on more than one occasion, enjoying seeing the glimpses of childishness in his almost grown step-son. But here and now it wasn't so funny anymore.

The pills rattled in his hand – whether he did it on purpose or it was a reaction from his nerves, he wasn't sure. Opening it carefully, Burt pulled off the seal and removed the layer of cotton inside before shaking two pills into his hand.

"Here ya go," he said quietly as the boy extended an almost hesitant hand towards him. As the pills changed hands Burt accidentally brushed the boy's palm. Had he not been paying attention, Burt wouldn't have noticed the boy's hand tense at the contact or how the rest of his body seemed to stiffen along with it. It was the first reaction that they boy had had, and Burt found he was both relieved with the knowledge that he was capable of giving a personal reaction and devastated that the light contact had provoke such a strong reaction. Burt turned back to the bag and fished out the bottle of water from within. Turning his attention back to the boy, he furrowed his brow.

"Where did the pills go, did they fall?" He hadn't meant it as an accusation, but from the boy's full body twitch it had come across that way – to him, at least.

"I-I'm sorry sir," he began, lowering his head and torso as far as the confined space would allow, "I took them. I thought I was allowed, sir. I'm sorry." Burt began to raise his empty hand to place it on the boy's knee, but at the hitch in his breath he stopped.

"It's okay, kid. I got them for you, you can take them. I just thought maybe you'd want something to help wash them down, is all." He handed the bottle to the boy, who hesitated a moment before taking it in his hand.

"Thank you, sir," he said after a moment's hesitation. Burt sighed.

"Just call me Burt, kid. I'm not really good at the whole formal thing." The boy's jaw tensed again before he nodded.

"Yes Mr. Burt, sir." He sighed again.

"We'll work on that." The car roared into life once more and Burt began to carefully navigate out of the busy parking lot. "But while we're on the subject," he began again, "That Martin, Maverick, Markus guy didn't really give you a chance to talk for yourself back there, and I'm really sorry, kid, but I didn't quite catch your name." He grimaced at how awkward and uncomfortable he sounded.

"I will answer to whatever you choose to call me, Mr. Burt, sir." The boy fisted the unopened bottle in his lap.

"Just Burt, kid. And you've gotta have a name," his fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he thought, "what about those other people you were with, what did they call you?"

"They called me boy, Mr. Burt," a slight pause, "sir." Burt took a deep breath.

"Well that's not gonna do, is it," he mumbled, "and I can't keep calling you kid, kid." His fingers drummed louder as they pulled up to a red light. Glancing in his rear view mirror, Burt saw that the boy's shoulders had slumped and that his eyes were blinking furiously as the medicine began to take effect. Burt was surprised how quickly the boy responded to the pills. A sharp honk jolted him back to reality. He tore his eyes away from the boy's losing battle as his attention returned again to the road.

"We can talk about this later. If you're tired, it's okay if you fall asleep. There's plenty of room back there, feel free to put your feet up and make yourself comfortable." There was no sound of movement from behind him, but Burt did faintly hear the boy's quiet reply before the inside of the truck became completely silent.

"Thank you, Mr. Burt, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

**This took longer than a day... but oops. It`s still up, right? Right!**

**I thought I was going to get farther than this. That really didn't happen. Mah badd. We SHOULD be meeting everyone next chapter. I really don't see how I could possibly put that off any longer but hey, it is me.**

**Again, to my BEAUTIFUL reviewers and readers, I thank you so much! You all make me so happy, anonymouses and logged in peeps alike!**

**To all them people who weren't sure about reading, and then did (read:boredandhomealone ;P) Thank you for taking the time to. I'm especially glad that you've enjoyed it so far.**

**Thanks again, all!**

The majority of the drive back to Lima had been completely silent. The boy had fallen asleep instantly after replying to Burt, and Burt hadn't wanted to risk waking him to turn on the radio. With each mile that passed the tension in Burt grew. He and Carole had talked this over enough to know what to expect, but that didn't mean he was prepared.

Glancing in the rear-view mirror he eyed the boy. Though his shoulders had previously been sagging in exhaustion, it seemed that sleep had actually improved his posture. His one good eye kept alternating its openness – something that had initially startled Burt when he realized that the boy was in fact asleep. He'd been telling the boy he could lie down when it had started; Burt had just assumed he was tired. But when the boy wasn't responding, or even acknowledging that Burt was speaking to him he began to worry. He'd even pulled the truck over.

Leaning into the back seat he'd stopped to look at the boy. His eye was open, but not focused and his breathing was shallow. Cautiously, Burt had waved his hand slowly in front of his face.

"Kid," he whispered softly without reply. He felt the panic slowly rising in his chest – his heart beating painfully fast. "Kid?"

He moved his calloused hand to gently rest on the boy's knee. Instantly the boy took in a sharp breath and held it as he blinked his one eye, instantly making eye contact with Burt for the first time since they had met. It had lasted for all but two seconds before the boy's head dropped and his breathing continued again.

"Sir," was all the boy said. Burt closed his eyes and inhaled deeply in relief, already feeling the pressure in his chest decreasing.

"Kid," Burt said again as the boy flinched, "You gave me a – "

"Mr. Burt," the boy corrected himself. From the way his shoulders hunched forward slightly Burt could tell he thought he was in trouble. "I'm sorry, Mr. Burt, sir." Burt stroked his knee with his thumb.

"You don't have to be sorry, kid. I just didn't know you were sleeping."

"I shouldn't have, Mr. Burt. I'm sorry for that. And for calling you sir. And for interrupting you," his eye quickly flickered up to Burt's face, judging his reaction as he kept speaking, "and I'm sorry for speaking too much. I'm sorry, Mr. Burt, sir."

"Just Burt, kid. And it's okay, I woke you up. You're with somebody you don't know, and I bet it took you a minute to figure out where you were, am I right?" The boy's chin met his chest and his shoulders hunched forward more in shame. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, because you didn't do anything wrong, okay, kid?"

The boy's chin lifted. His eye shifted to stare at Burt's hand, which was still stroking his knee softly.

"Yes, Mr. Burt." Burt smiled and patted his leg.

"You're a good kid, kid," he stated as he turned around.

"Thank you, Mr. Burt."

"Close enough," Burt mumbled to himself as he shoulder checked and began to merge back onto the road, "feel free to lie down though, if you want to sleep. Or lean against the door or something. Whatever makes you comfortable, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

It had taken another half hour before the boy had allowed himself to fall asleep again. Burt could see the hesitation in his eye every time he started to doze off, but the side effects of the Tylenol eventually caught up to him again, and the boy fell into a deep sleep that lasted for the remainder of the trip.

Pulling into the driveway, Burt turned off the engine and turned to look at the boy.

This boy – this person, now belonged to him. As much as he didn't like it, he was responsible for caring for another life. Kurt had been a difficult child, throwing tantrums and demanding money for clothing that they couldn't afford to spend, but he had always been able to communicate with Burt what he wanted. Even as an infant Kurt knew exactly how to tell his father that he was hungry or tired. It was never a guessing game with his son. This…this was going to be different. Because not only did Burt have no idea what this boy would like or want, the boy couldn't even tell him what he needed. Had he not stopped for Tylenol Burt could bet that the boy would never have even mentioned he was in pain.

Yes, he and Carole had talked about it, and the two of them had even sat their boys down to go over how this would change their lives, but now it was just so real. It was too real.

Because if he didn't get this right, this boy would suffer because of it. And Burt was positive that he would never even know.

It was just a year ago, but Burt thought back to when Kurt was this age. He was just coming into himself – he had the strength to tell his father that he was gay; he had made mistakes and made friends. That was the year that his son had started accepting himself.

But this boy.

This fifteen year old boy had never even been given that chance. He had never been given the opportunity to make friends. He would never go to school (at least, a real school. Burt shuddered as he thought of the people on the track. How they had just kept running - ). He would never be normal. And Burt couldn't even give him that. He had bought him to use him just as he had been used before.

He sighed and opened his door. He was glad that everyone else was out until the evening. He could give the boy some time to get used to his new home before he had to meet everyone else.

More carefully than before, Burt put his own seat forward before placing a gentle hand on the boy's knee.

Sharp breath. Heavy blink.

"We're here, kid," he said softly as the boy's head bowed.

"Yes sir, Mr. Burt."


	6. Chapter 6

**This one is long because I love you.**

**So I REALLY didn't want to do anything from Blaine's side, and then this happened. And then it wasn't what I thought it was going to be. But it kept coming. And it's 2am. And I want to post something 'cause I lurve you all. And your reviews. And your alerts. And your time. And your attention. And you. ;)**

**K. THIS. THEN NIGHT.**

**And I don't own any of this. Just in case anyone ever thinks I do… I don't.**

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><p>Burt patted his knee before stepping back to give the boy room to get out of the truck. There was a small metallic click that sounded from inside the truck. Burt furrowed his brow but waited, not wanting to rush the boy. Dark curls appeared a moment after, followed by a hesitant hand that held within it the worn handle of the leash that had been clipped onto the boy at the Home. Burt took in a deep breath as his hand reached up to fiddle with the brim of his cap out of habit. The boy stiffened as he retracted his hand slightly.<p>

"I'm sorry, Mr. Burt," he said quickly, "I shouldn't have put the leash on myself, I shouldn't have. I should have let my keeper put it on for me, I shouldn't have done it, I know I shouldn't, I'm sorry."

Burt closed his eyes for only a moment before forcing himself to open them again. As much as he wanted to he couldn't pretend that he hadn't bought the boy: that this wasn't his life now – that he wasn't the person the boy was afraid of.

Reaching forward he brought his hand slowly to the back of the boy's head and fumbled for the clip. When he had achieved his goal, Burt placed one hand on the boy's shoulder and lay the other on his dark hair, which Burt was surprised to find was damp with sweat.

"Hey kid," he began, causing the boy's eye to rise half way to meeting his own, "listen to me now, okay? You are not an animal. You are a human being, and I promise you that you will be treated like one. That being said, this," he removed his hand from the boy's shoulder to pick up the leash, shaking it lightly, "you don't have to wear this. Ever, okay? No one here is ever gonna make you wear it, because you are a person, and you deserve that freedom at the very least."

'_Hypocrite'_, his mind screamed at him as the boy nodded, his head now lowered completely.

"Thank you, Mr. Burt." The boy spoke quietly, barely breaking the point of a whisper. Burt sighed.

"C'mon, kid, let's get you inside, okay?"

Burt waited for him to step out of the truck before pushing the seat back and shutting the door and leading the way to the house.

After a minute of fumbling with his keys, he finally found the right one. Burt pushed the door open, standing back to allow the boy to enter first. He tried to smile as the boy's eye flickered upwards towards him for reassurance before he took a tentative step in front of Burt, who audibly heard the boy take a deep breath in, holding it as he passed. Once inside the boy let it out in a light sigh, standing still for further instructions.

"You can take your, uh, your shoes off if you want to." Burt wasn't sure that the boy's footwear could be classified as shoes as they appeared to be more sock-like, but he figured it would be an acceptable term for the moment. He'd need to find the boy some decent shoes though before he started work in the garage.

He'd need a name, too.

"I guess I should let you see the place, huh," he asked after the boy had removed his footwear. Burt took a step forward into the house just as the phone began to ring, causing the boy to stiffen slightly. Burt looked at him apologetically.

"Pretty sure that's either my wife, Carole, or my son, Kurt, just making sure we got back okay. I'll just be a second, feel free to wander around if you want to, I'll be right back." Burt rounded the corner into the kitchen, and a moment later the boy could hear him conversing with someone over the phone.

The boy stood still. He had heard his keeper give him permission to wander, but he didn't want to accidentally stumble upon something he shouldn't, or end up touching something he wasn't allowed to. He was currently standing on laminate flooring, his bare toes curling on the cool surface to keep warm. There was a carpeted area where the living room began that looked soft and inviting, but he didn't want to make his keeper angry by walking on it if he wasn't supposed to. Briefly he wondered if maybe his keeper would allow him to sleep there, but he rid himself of the thought as quickly as it had come. Most likely he would sleep outside his keeper's door – close enough to hear if he was called, but far enough that he wouldn't be in the way of him or his wife. He'd mentioned a son too. Kurt? Yes, Kurt. He'd have to remember that. His previous keepers had been a young couple with no children, and he couldn't help but wonder if this Kurt was older or younger than himself, and by how much. He liked kids, but a child with the ability to punish him because he wanted to was always a terrifying concept.

The boy started as a thundering sound came from somewhere across the living room and down the hallway where he couldn't see. The sound traveled, and he could feel as well as hear it getting closer. Trying not to panic, he held his breath as a giant figure barrelled past him towards the kitchen, stopping in its tracks as it – or, he – realized that there was another being in the room. The tall boy backtracked until he stood in front of the adoptive, who bowed low and let out a quiet,

"Hello, sir."

With a puzzled expression, the other teen took a step backwards before responding with an awkward bow of his own before straightening himself and smiling.

"Hey, man, you can just call me Finn. I thought I heard something, but I wasn't really sure so I figured I'd check it out anyway, but I guess I kinda got a bit distracted by the kitchen, but then you're here. You're the guy Burt got to work at the garage, right?" The grin never left his face, and the shorter boy tried to reciprocate with a small smile of his own, though it came out more as a grimace.

"Yes, I was adopted this morning."

"Oh, cool," Finn said, smiling widely, "Burt's pretty awesome, and I really hope that it's not, like, super awkward for you living here. I mean, I just moved in here too, so I kind of know how it feels to be like, the outsider and stuff, but Burt and Kurt are both like, actually really pretty cool and made me feel really at home, so maybe it'll be like that for you too."

This time, the boy did manage a small smile. This Finn seemed so…friendly. He'd never had a friend before, maybe they could be. Adoptives rarely had the chance to talk to each other, but Finn seemed so casual that the boy was sure that Burt wouldn't be angry at them for speaking.

"Thank you, Finn."

"No problem. Hey, do you mind if I ask…what happened to your-" Finn gestured to the side of his face.

"I disobeyed my keeper," he said softly, "and I will never do it again."

"Oh…" Finn said, scratching his head almost in the same manner that Burt did, "well, no one's going to do anything like whatever they did to you here, okay? I promise.

"Did Burt show you around yet?" The boy shook his head. "Awesome, I can do that then." Finn started walking, beckoning for the boy to follow.

"So this is the living room, that was the kitchen, this is the hallway, that's the bathroom, this is my room," the sound of simulated gunfire rang through the closed door, "oh shoot, I think I forgot to pause." Finn opened the door and ran inside just as his character was killed. He cursed quietly as he told the boy about the game he had been playing, but the boy wasn't listening.

He was looking at the room around him. It seemed like the type of room that a normal teenager would have. Had he not referred to their keeper as Burt, and had he not mentioned that he had just moved in, the boy would have believed that Finn was Burt's son. The room was full of video games stacked against a wall and clothes strewn all across the floor and bed _(a bed, a bed!) _in a manner that suggested neither his keeper nor his wife minded that he did so.

The boy thought back, trying to remember if Finn had mentioned just how long he had lived there. From the state of the room it looked to have been a while, but he couldn't be sure.

"This is really your room," he wondered aloud. Finn smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, I know it's kind of messy. But I've got some pretty cool games and stuff, if you wanna play I could make space for you or something." The boy looked behind him to the door, then back at Finn.

"Do you think Mr. Burt would let me," he whispered, leaning forward with one wide eye. Finn's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Well yeah, probably. I don't see why not. I mean, like, as long as you do your work at the garage and stuff I don't think he'll care much what you do around here."

The boy let out a short laugh as he stared at the games in wonder.

"I've never been allowed to play before," he murmured to himself, reaching out to touch, but stopping before his hand was half way there.

"Well maybe after dinner we can," Finn said, his smile faded, "I think we're having lasagne tonight."

The adoptive's eye widened again as he stared at Finn.

"L-lasagne? You're allowed?"

Confusion shone clearly on Finn's face as he replied.

"Yeah…"

"Do you think…" the boy bit his lip, looking up at Finn before he continued, "do you think that maybe if I work hard before supper that I'll be allowed some too?"

Finn tilted his head.

"Well, I don't think you have to. I mean, you can't go down to the garage tonight, and mom went crazy and cleaned everything yesterday so that the place would be nice when you got here and so you wouldn't think we were pigs or anything," _'wait, mom?' _"and dinner should be pretty soon. Mom should be home in like, ten minutes, and the lasagne just needs to heat up so –"

"Finn, I see you two met." Burt's voice sounded behind them, the boy flinching heavily as he realized that he had not stayed where his keeper had left him. He'd wandered off with his… his…

"I hope my slob of a stepson didn't scare you too much," he said, only half kidding.

Stepson.

_Stepson._

Burt had been thrilled when he'd gotten off the phone to find that the boy had indeed gone exploring. Even more so when he had heard the sound of voices coming from down the hall. He hadn't heard what they were saying, but he could swear that he heard two voices, and that they seemed to be having an actual conversation. Leave it to Finn to get the quiet boy to talk.

But as soon as he had entered the room, something within it changed. The boy had gone pale and in an instant he had dropped, not crouched, _dropped_ to his knees and bent over with his arms outstretched on the floor in front of him, palms open and flat.

"Hey, hey, kid, wha-"

"I'm sorry, sir."

Burt looked up at Finn, who looked just as bewildered as he felt.

"Hey Finn, can you give us a sec, please?" Nodding, Finn left the room silently, courteously closing the door behind him.

Looking back to the boy he placed his hand gently on his back, causing him to shudder.

"I'm sorry, sir," he repeated, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Why," Burt asked as he rubbed the boy's shoulders, "what happened, kid?"

The boy drew in a stilted breath.

"I thought he was adopted, I'm sorry. I didn't realize he was your son, master. I didn't know he was master, too."

Burt's breath caught as the boy uttered those words. Though some people preferred that their adoptives referred to them by the name, 'master,' Burt had never wanted to be called as such. It was mostly a term that adoptives used when they had done something horribly wrong, and with the mistake he had made, Burt could see why he would be worried.

"It's okay, kid. I'm not mad at you, it's okay." He repeated the words over and over again as the boy began to slow his shaking. Outside the room he could hear voices. It sounded like Carole and Kurt had gotten home from the grocery store and Finn was relaying the events that had taken place in the past few minutes.

He sighed and continued stroking the boy's shoulders, trying to understand how hard it must be for him to be brought in to live with a new family and knowing nothing about any of them. He should have told the boy about his family on the drive home, but he'd told himself he'd wanted the boy to sleep so he would be well rested to meet everyone.

Looking down at the boy in his arms, he could see the sweat from his neck and moved his hand to feel the boy's forehead. It was burning.

"Okay, kid. I'm going to take you to your room now, alright? You can lie down for a while and meet everyone else later. I might send my wife, Carole, in to check on you – it's okay, she's a nurse. She'll make sure you're okay, alright, kid?"

Burt found that his speech had fallen on deaf ears. Between the stress and his increasing sickness, the boy had either fallen asleep or passed out. Opening the door, Burt called to Finn, who helped him lift the boy off the floor and take him to his room. Laying him on the mattress Burt made sure the good side of his face was pressed against the pillow, leaving the other side exposed in case it was still causing him pain, or Carole deemed it necessary to look at it right away. Pulling the covers to his chin, Burt cast one final glance down at the sleeping boy before he stood to leave, calling quietly down the hall for Carole, silently praying to a god he didn't believe in that things would eventually turn out okay.


	7. Chapter 7

The boy awoke to a gentle stream of light that had managed to slip through the small slit of the closed curtain across from him. He let out a small yawn that was cut short as searing pain shot through the entire right side of his face, causing him to let out an involuntary whimper. The medication he had been given must have worn off quite some time ago, giving him no relief from the now constant throbbing he had become so accustomed to feeling. It almost felt worse now – now that he knew how much better it could feel, but it wasn't likely he would get the same gentle treatment again. He had let his guard down. The pills his keeper had given him made his mind fuzzy and relaxed, which was something he could not afford to be. He could not afford to make the same mistake he had made earlier when he had assumed that his keeper's son was another adoptive.

The boy flinched as he thought of how naïve he had allowed himself to be. The other boy Finn – or, rather, Mr. Finn – was nothing if not the opposite of an adoptive. He was too messy, loud, and clumsy (the adoptive mentally chided himself at the thought, he shouldn't think of his keepers with such disrespect) to have been permitted to leave any Home. The trainers would have never allowed such behaviour. With a guilty pang, the boy remembered that he had exhibited unacceptable behaviour as well. He expected too much, and his keeper would surely make sure that he was put in his place.

With that thought, the boy shifted to rise, only to be stopped when he realized that there was something warm and heavy pressed against his body. He froze. What had happened after Mr. Finn's room? He had passed out, that he knew. Had his keeper taken him to his bed? Carefully so as not to disturb the lump on top of him he shifted his lower half, wiggling slowly. He wasn't sore. Maybe he was waiting for the boy to wake up, first. But that didn't make sense either. Mr. Burt surely would have heard his yawn and cry afterwards. And the boy had definitely anticipated his keeper and stepson's weight to be more than what was currently on top of him, so it couldn't be either of them. Perhaps his wife, or other son?

A sound from the foot of the bed (And it was a bed, he noticed. Too soft and warm for him to be allowed to stay here much longer, surely) caused his mind to jolt back to the room he was currently lying in. What was most likely an attempt at soft footsteps could be heard sneaking up the side of the bed.

Not wanting to disturb the person on top of him, the boy lay still until the creeping figure leaned forward, exposing his bald head to the boy's one eye that was half hidden both by the bridge of his nose and the soft pillow beneath him.

"Hey, kid. Did I wake you up?"

"No, sir," the boy whispered in reply. Mr. Burt crouched down so that he was level with the boy's eye.

"You slept pretty good, huh? Guess you were tired from all the excitement yesterday." The man paused to scratch his head. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and sighed. "I hate to do this, kid, but I've gotta get you up. We've gotta find you some clothes that fit and a pair of decent shoes, and I'm sure you must be hungry too," Burt cut himself off by letting out a soft chuckle, "Finn said you were pretty excited about the lasagne, so he put himself in charge of guarding it. Got mad at anyone going in for seconds, and usually it's us trying to keep food away from him. So anytime you feel like eating half a pan of lasagne, it's yours."

The man smiled at the boy who simply stared in return, still focused on the weight resting on top of him. Letting out another small sigh, he placed his hand on the edge of the bed.

"You need a name, kid. Have you thought at all about what you want to be called?"

"No, Mr. Burt."

"We'll find one for you, okay? Now come on, I know it's nice and warm in bed, but we'll find you a really big sweater so you're not cold, how does that sound?"

The boy furrowed his brow in confusion. Burt laughed before explaining.

"Carole – my wife – and I came in to check on you a few times last night. You were shiverin' like a leaf every time so we kept loadin' you up with blankets. I guess you can't really see it but you've got about…" he trailed off, turning to look at the boy's torso, "three blankets and two quilts courtesy of Finn and Kurt, and Kurt isn't usually too big on sharing anything that has fabric in it, so you must be pretty special." He winked and clapped the boy lightly on the shoulder. "Bathroom's out the door and to the right. I know Finn showed you around yesterday, but if you get lost trying to find your way around after that just follow the voices, then we can see about finding you a name and getting you more Tylenol or something for your face, if that worked before." He glanced at the boy, who nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Burt, and thank you, sir." Burt stared into the boy's eye with a look the boy couldn't quite place.

"I know apologising doesn't change anything, but I'm so sorry, kid. We're going to set up some ground rules one you get upstairs, but I really am hoping that it won't be too bad here for you." He sighed. "I'll see you in a bit, kid," he said before standing up to leave, back cracking lightly as he stretched it. As soon as the man had closed the door behind him, the boy shifted himself so that he could see the mound of blankets on top of him. Touching them lightly he fought back a smile before he forced himself up from the warm comfortable bed he had been laying on.


	8. Chapter 8

**Holy balls, Batman. The last chapter was some seriously hard core filler, and for some reason it got me a whole slew of reviews. Maybe it was good, or maybe you were all just happy I didn't do my long-winded author's spiel again. If that's the case, too bad. I like talking to you. And because I missed it last time I feel bad, so mah thanks are a comin' here! But like, at the bottom kind of here.**

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><p>"Is he alright," Carole whispered, clutching both her hands to her chest as she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the boy behind the door her husband was closing softly. Burt brought a finger to his lips and used his other hand to usher Carole down the tiny hallway and up the stairs leading to the main floor. They had put a great deal of time into deciding where the boy would sleep once he arrived. Though Carole, Burt, and Kurt had initially wanted to clear out the small office on the third floor between both their rooms in an effort to make him feel more like part of the family, Finn surprised them all by making a quite compelling argument in favour of the basement, allowing their adoptive independence and privacy without the feeling of being constantly supervised.<p>

Feeling Burt's hand placed lightly on her lower back as he guided her in front of him up the stairs, Carole silently agreed that the right choice had been made. The people at the Homes took pride in the condition of their adoptives, so she felt safe in assuming he didn't have an infection. The most likely cause of his nighttime shivers and hot spells was probably the stress of everything that was currently happening to him, but she couldn't be sure quite yet.

She hadn't looked at his face. Her hands had made it as far as the strap beneath his dark curls before he had shifted into her gentle touch, tilting his head back and exposing his uninjured skin enough for her to see how young he looked, or, more truthfully, how young he really was.

Just over a year younger than her own son she couldn't help but notice the differences between the two. He was so much smaller than Finn had been at that age – Kurt, too, from what she remembered of the Glee performances and that one football game from the year before. He was so tiny, and so vulnerable.

To her, he was just a baby.

Unable to defend himself, or make his own decisions; unable to say no to anything, no matter how much he wouldn't want to do something.

Taking off his mask would feel like laughing at his helplessness. She needed to look, and no matter if he somehow found the strength to deny her request she would have to anyway, but as Finn had said, the boy needed privacy. He needed independence and the option to make his own choices.

He needed his freedom, and she hated that she wouldn't be able to give that to him.

They reached the top of the stairs, moving quietly to the kitchen and seating themselves in the wooden chairs that surrounded their small table. Burt immediately slouched forward, resting his elbows on the table and cradling his head in his hands. Carole herself sat rigid and upright, one hand clasping her elbow while the other rested lightly against her face, covering the area from her nose to her chin.

"I don't know if I can do this."

Carole closed her eyes and tried to tell her mind that it wasn't utter defeat she had heard in her husband's voice.

"It's just day one, honey. We didn't expect this to be easy, we knew tha –"

"I just didn't expect it to be this _hard_." Burt's hands began to rub his face slowly as he took several shaking breaths. "He doesn't even have a _name_, Carole. He's fifteen years old and no one's ever given him a _fucking_ _name_. I've been calling him kid all day yesterday and today too, and he's probably thinking that's what we're gonna call him." Carole reached forward to take his hand.

"He's not going to think that – "

"But he will. I asked him what the other people he was with called him, and do you know what he said, Carole? He said they called him Boy. I just – " Burt sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Carole. I just hate that no matter what, he's never going to understand how sorry any of us are about this because we're just going to use him the same way he's been used his entire life, and it's not fair.

"What if it were Kurt, or Finn?"

The question was left hanging in the air as a small click was heard from the door at the top of the stairs in the living room. Silence followed, and a tentative barefoot step was heard as the boy came off the stairs. The light, slow padding that followed signified that the boy was following the laminate path that surrounded the thick living room carpet instead of walking across it.

Burt stood up suddenly, causing his chair to loudly scratch against the kitchen floor. The footsteps stopped before continuing again much more quickly, and a dark curly mass of hair was soon visible in the open doorway.

"Hello, Mr. Burt," his eye flickered up quickly, "hello, ma'am."

"Hello," Carole greeted as Burt cleared his throat, giving a small nod and grunted a simple, "Kid."

Carole stood, careful not to let her chair scrape the floor as Burt had before making her way to the boy.

"Hi," she greeted again, "I'm Carole, and please, feel free to call me that.

"I know this…situation isn't the most ideal, but we all are really hoping that you might like it here."

The boy opened his mouth as if to reply, but a familiar thundering sound caused him to snap it shut quickly.

"Is he awake, is he awake?" Carole fought a chuckle as her teenaged son blundered into the kitchen almost knocking her and the boy over.

"Well if he wasn't before, he surely is now. I bet you woke up the entire neighbourhood with your oversized clown feet. Oh, wait." A loud beep sounded, and a thin boy rounded the corner with a cell phone in his hand. He paid no attention to the other occupants in the room as he crossed the kitchen, tapping away at the screen. Stopping to lean against the table, the boy let out a few more taps before he pocketed the device and turned his bored gaze to Finn.

"That was Mercedes informing me that several car alarms on her street went off simultaneously, followed by a chorus of howling animals - which she presumed were cats. Now, if you would only wear those slippers I got you, this wouldn't be such a problem." The new boy turned quickly and smiled at the adoptive, tilting his head slightly. "Hello, I'm Kurt." He stuck out his hand. The adoptive stared at it for a moment before turning his gaze to Burt. At Burt's tight smile, the adoptive slowly stuck his hand out to grasp Kurt's, shaking it lightly before dropping his hand and head back to its previous position.

"Hello, Mr. Kurt."

Carole sighed. During Kurt's rant at Finn she had been watching the boy. She noticed that, though Kurt's words were not directed at him, the boy had shrunken in on himself a little more. It was barely enough to notice, but his expressionless face had momentarily lapsed into a small grimace before it was wiped clean again.

Kurt had been the one most opposed to buying an adoptive, claiming that no one deserved to be treated like an object or accessory. While they had all agreed with this sentiment, Kurt seemed to have the most difficulty accepting that there really was no other option. They had sold his navigator, and the market had taken a dive only a few months after they had bought the new house and there was no one interested in buying. They couldn't sell the garage, and they couldn't hire more help. They were stuck.

Kurt had been short with them since the decision was made official, and though Carole knew that Kurt would try to make the boy feel welcome, his own frustrations had a tendency to consume him, and he had difficulty keeping his remarks in check.

Kurt was nothing if not passionate.

"I'm sorry," Kurt began, his own smile becoming a little more forced as he tried to keep it in place, "but I don't believe I caught your name."

"I will answer to whatever my keepers choose to call me, sir."

Kurt's smile dropped entirely as he turned to face his father, crossing his arms and arching his brow. At the shake of Burt's head, Kurt visibly bit his lip and nodded stiffly.

"Well then, we'll just have to come up with something for you, won't we."

"Thank you, Mr. Kurt."

"It's just Kurt, thank you. Did you have any ideas as to what names you like? Any that you really dislike?"

"No, M-. No, Kurt."

A brief silence followed.

"Oh! How about – "

"No, Finn."

"But you don't even know what I – "

"No." At Kurt's strict tone, Finn let out a huff.

"Fine, but at least I'm trying."

"What about your parents? What were their names?" Kurt's smile fell back into place as he regarded the small boy before him.

"I don't know, Kurt," he answered, head still low. Finn looked confused.

"Wait, so you don't even like, know your parent's names? Really? Do you, uh, do you know anything about them?" The boy shook his head.

"I know I went to my first Home from a breeding center in Oregon when I was four, and if regulations were followed I should have been with my mother up until then, sir."

"Just Finn's okay, dude. But seriously, you don't remember your mom at all?" Finn's mouth was left hanging open. Carole almost chided him for his behaviour when she realized that her jaw had fallen as well. The small boy shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the attention he was being given.

"I remember a little, si – sorry, Finn, but I don't know for sure that the woman I remember was my mother."

"Do you think it was," Carole found herself asking, ignoring the moisture that had reached her eyes.

The boy nodded.

"Yes, Mrs. Carole." Carole fought the urge to hug the boy, noticing that the other three men seemed to feel the same as well. Burt, who had been oddly silent throughout the conversation, cleared his throat.

"I, uh, I saw that information in your file when I skimmed it last night." He looked slightly sheepish, and Carole remembered that they had vowed not to look at the file, but wait for the boy to tell them about his past only if he chose to. But that conversation they could have later. "It didn't have the names of either of your parents, but it did have the city. You were born in Blaine, Oregon. Does that sound familiar?"

The boy's head raised slightly, and there was a brief flash of something in his eye that stayed longer than any other emotion had before.

"Yes, Mr. Burt. Yes, it does." Burt scratched his head.

"What if, um, I mean, if it's a good memory for you, reminds you of your mom," he took a breath, "what would you say about us calling you Blaine?"

The boy's breath hitched, and his head dropped low against his chest.

"If it pleases you, sir, I will answer to this." This time, Carole didn't resist reaching out to place a light hand on the boy's shoulder.

"But do you like it, sweetheart," she asked, her voice soft and low.

The boy's head began to shake. At first, Carole thought he was trying to say no, but as the speed increased, so did the intensity and the objective.

"Yes, Mrs. Carole. I would like that name very much."

"Well then," Burt said, clapping his hands together loudly, "on behalf of all of us, welcome to the family, Blaine."

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><p><strong>RinzlerIsTron123, Hiki-nii, and my repeat anons thank you guys so much, your persistent reviews have literally guilted me into posting two chapters in about as many days. Like, wow.<strong>

**One-Eyed Lady your beautiful comment is beautiful. Characterization is always my biggest fear, hopefully I kept it up with this.**

**winter-of-discontent, Decaying Body, and anyone else wondering about the name - I seriously debated having his name be something completely different, and having Kurt show up at the house with his boyfriend, Blaine, because I thought it would be hilarious, but then decided I'd probably be the only one.**

**Klaine Fearelle - you're amazing.**

**Panda-hime - your picture is cute, and, by default, I believe you are too.**

**(If I missed someone I'm a jerk, please feel free to send me angry faces and such. As always, reviews are loved, even if they're angry, sad, or unsatisfied reviews. I write for myself, but I post for you so I'm ecstatic that you're all reading and enjoying, thank you!)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry this took so long. There were exams, and after exams there was beer and somewhere in the middle of that I got a trampoline.**

**I'm sorry.**

**:(**

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><p>"Now, first things first," Carole began, "Blaine, honey, what would you like for breakfast?"<p>

Blaine started, straightening his posture slightly.

"I will eat whatever my keepers choose to feed me, Mrs. Carole."

"But what do you _like_, honey?"

"I like food, Mrs. Carole." Blaine's voice came out steady, but it was soft and quiet. His cheek had taken on a noticeable flush and Burt watched as Carole quickly removed her hand from his shoulder. At the loss of contact the boy's breath hitched slightly causing the muscles in his neck to twitch. The twitch caused Burt to remember what Markus had told him at the home about how skittish Blaine was around new people. Clearing his throat, he tried to remove some of the attention from the clearly overwhelmed boy.

"Hey, Kurt, why don't you go get some of those clothes you put out for Blaine and we can see if any of them fit. Finn, d'you mind going through the closet and seeing if you can rustle up a pair of your old shoes so he can wear them until we get him some decent ones?"

Finn grinned widely and nodded before attempting to bound out of the kitchen before he was stopped by Kurt.

"You're kidding, right?" Kurt snorted lightly when his question was met by a blank stare from Finn. Turning to face his father, he continued, "Do you really think that Finn's shoes are going to fit Blaine? No offence, but Blaine's quite a bit smaller than him and, though I admit I haven't taken the time to blatantly stare at his feet, I'm going to assume that the burlap sacks Finn refers to as shoes will not fit on Blaine's normal human-sized feet."

Finn frowned and stretched out his leg, planting his foot with a loud thud beside Blaine's. Squinting heavily he alternated glances from foot to foot for a few moments before looking at Burt.

"I think Kurt's right. But in my defence," he turned to Blaine, "you have like, really tiny feet."

"He's a growing boy, Finn," Carole scolded as she swatted her son's arm.

"But it's true! They're like, hobbit sized," Finn looked back at Blaine, "but you're kind of smaller-ish too, so it's okay 'cause it doesn't make you look weird or anything, just smaller. Than me. And Kurt. And Rachel." Carole swatted him again, earning her a pout from Finn.

"Regardless," Burt cut in before Carole could scold Finn again, "I know they'll be a little big, but it's gonna be better than anything that Carole, Kurt, or I could come up with. And before you go on saying anything," Burt turned and raised a pointed finger at Kurt, who had already opened his mouth in protest, "if you can find anything that Blaine doesn't have to strap, lace, or glue himself into be my guest, but until then, Finn's shoes will have to do.

"Now scram, both of you. This kitchen's pretty small as it is and if we all keep trying to move in it no one's ever gonna get anywhere, alright?" Looking at both of his boys he hoped that they would get the hint and give Blaine some room to breathe.

Kurt pursed his lips as he shot a look towards his father.

"I accept your challenge," he said before grabbing Finn by the sleeve and dragging him down the hallway.

They could hear the muffled sound of voices coming in from Finn's room, but the kitchen itself had fallen into an uncomfortable silence that was broken by the sound of a toaster.

"Do you like toast, Blaine?" Burt fought a smile at Carole's question. At some point when he was speaking she had grabbed the bag of bread from the counter and had put in two slices.

"Yes, Mrs. Carole," Blaine replied, his one eye darting between Carole and the bread she was now smearing in strawberry jam. Smiling, she placed the slice on a plate and held it out to Blaine. The boy looked at Burt as if waiting for permission. At Burt's subtle nod Blaine reached out with a tentative hand to grab at the bread. Picking it carefully he cupped it in both hands before backing slowly into the corner beside the garbage can. He knelt down and adjusted his thin nightgown-like shirt into a makeshift plate.

"No, no, Blaine," Carole started, walking towards the boy. Blaine's body stiffened instantly and within a moment he had his forehead pressed to the ground in a bow. Both his arms were outstretched fully and the piece of bread again was cupped in both hands, raised slightly as an offering to Carole. The woman instantly crouched beside the boy and began to rub her hand lightly in small circles across his back.

"It's alright, honey," she whispered softly as she shifted her own body so that her face was near level with his, "it's okay, you're okay, sweetheart. I just thought you might be more comfortable at the table, what do you think about that?"

Blaine angled his head towards Carole in acknowledgement, though he couldn't see her.

"Would my keeper prefer me to eat at the table," he asked in his quiet voice as Carole continued to rub his back.

"You might be more comfortable there, sweetie, but if you don't want to move you don't have to. If you'd rather stay right here that's perfectly fine, alright?"

The boy began to drag his arms closer to his body. Using his forearms as leverage he pushed himself into a kneeling position, though he still kept his body at a lower level than Carole's. Twisting himself he held the bread out to Carole again.

"I'm sorry I misbehaved, Mrs. Carole."

Carole's hand moved swiftly from his back to gently ghost across the masked side of his face, settling in his hair and stroking his matted curls softly.

"You didn't do a single thing wrong, Blaine, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who should be apologizing to you." Blaine eye flashed disbelief but Carole continued. "I'm sorry I startled you, Blaine. You did nothing wrong, and I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. Now, would you like to sit at the table, or would you rather stay here?"

Blaine's mouth opened, but no words came out. Burt figured it was the closest thing to gaping at her that Blaine could manage. He partially opened and closed his mouth a few more times before he lowered his head to the ground and hesitantly asked,

"May I move to the table, Mrs. Carole?" She smiled at him.

"Of course you may, Blaine."

"Am I to sit by Mr. Burt?"

"You can if you want to."

Blaine sat up slightly but waited for Carole to fully stand before he followed suit. The boy shuffled forward towards the table, eyeing Burt warily as he moved closer. Carole had already pulled out a chair for Blaine, but the boy had moved to the other side of the table. He came to a stop beside Burt's chair where he knelt again beside the man.

"Thank you for letting me sit at the table, Mrs. Carole, Mr. Burt."

Carole looked at Burt helplessly.

"You're welcome, kid, but you know you can sit on a chair too, if you want." The boy remained silent beside Burt, who shrugged at his wife. Blaine's stomach growled loudly, but the boy made no move to eat his food.

"Honey, go ahead and eat," Carole urged quietly. Blaine glanced from her to Burt before shifting the bread in his hands.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carole." Taking a small bite Blaine began to chew slowly. A gurgling sound came from deep within his throat as he swallowed the food.

"You okay, Blaine?" Burt placed his hand on the boy's back, causing him to tense.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Burt," Blaine apologized, "I was not expecting sweet, sir."

"The jam?" Carole asked, heading to the cupboard, "If you don't like it we can get you something else."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carole. I didn't mean to complain, I just hadn't expected sweet." Blaine went to take another bite, but from the way his mouth twitched as he chewed it was clear that he wasn't enjoying the food.

"Haven't you had jam before," Burt asked in confusion. The boy shook his head. "Well what do you eat?"

"At the Home we ate porridge and bananas in the morning, and rice and chicken for supper. At my previous keeper's I ate what was left over from their supper, sir."

"Here," Carole said as she walked back towards the table with multiple jars, a spoon, and the other piece of toast in her hand. After setting them down on the table she reached out her hand and waited for Blaine to hand her his breakfast, which he did with only minor hesitation. Grabbing one of the jars and the spoon, Carole knelt down beside Blaine and removed the lid, dipping the end of the spoon into the jar.

"Have you tried honey before, Blaine?"

"No, Mrs. Carole." The woman smiled as she held the spoon out to him.

"Here, try this, okay?"

Instead of taking the spoon, the boy leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the edge. Sucking lightly he slid his mouth from the spoon, carefully tasting the honey as instructed.

"What do you think, Blaine," Carole asked, eyeing him carefully.

"It tastes warm, Mrs. Carole." She smiled and put the lid back on the jar.

"It's still quite sweet though, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

Burt stood quietly as Carole continued to get Blaine to try the different spreads. The boy had instantly began to fuss as Carole went to use the same spoon in another jar, but at Carole's assurance that it didn't matter since Finn had already been caught dipping his fingers several times, he quieted down.

As Blaine tasted different types of jams, butter, and margarine, Burt went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, apple, and orange juice. Pouring a little into three separate glasses he put the cartons away and filled a fourth glass with water. Opening the cupboard again he removed the bottle of Tylenol from the previous day and shook two pills into his hand. With practiced skill Burt curled his index finger around both pills before using both hands to pick up the four cups. Setting them down on the table beside the jars he looked over to see Carole grinning at him as Blaine again had his mouth around the spoon, a look of pure bliss on his face.

"I take it you like peanut butter," Burt said, jolting the boy from the spoon.

"Yes sir, Mr. Burt." Blaine's cheek reddened as Carole stood up, taking everything but the peanut butter from the counter. As she put away the jars Burt struggled to sit in her previous spot on the floor. The first thing he grabbed was the water and pills.

"Now, I want you to be honest with me Blaine, okay?" The boy nodded with a quiet 'yes sir'. "How does your face feel today?" He leaned forward, trying to catch Blaine's eye.

"It stings a little, sir."

"And by a little, what do you mean? Does it sting all the time, or when you move it?" The boy hesitated before answering.

"It stings when it touches my mask, sir." He dipped his head as he spoke, avoiding Burt's gaze.

"If it's hurting you, is it okay if we take it off?" As much as Burt knew that his question was logical to ask, he couldn't help but feel that he had asked it to satisfy his own morbid curiosity on finding out what was under the mask.

The boy had gone quiet, and Burt was about to withdraw his question when he nodded. Leaning forward Blaine brought his forehead to his knees, allowing Burt access to the back of the mask. Carefully as he could, Burt put down the water and pills before reaching towards the back of Blaine's head. His hair was again damp from sweat and had become matted from sleeping in the bed. Burt had to fight through the mass of curls to find the small velcro strip. He pulled at it gently, trying not to catch it in Blaine's hair. Once the sides were free he pulled it from the boy's face, jumping slightly as he felt the mask rip as it came free from where it had been stuck on his skin.

"I'm so sorry –" Burt started, but stopped as he looked at Blaine. It looked as though the entire layer of skin on the right side of the boy's face had been burned off, leaving it raw and pink and speckled with hundreds of dots of red. The smooth edges were tinged in an angry ring of orange and white. Near his jawline the burn thinned out and was delicately scabbing. In the light his face seemed to shine as if it was wet, and the red spotting had increased where the mask had been ripped off.

Looking to his closed eye Burt could see that it was a slightly darker shade of red and, contrast to the rest of his face, it looked dry. With a jolt, Burt realized that his eye wasn't closed, but missing altogether. Where the boy's eye should have been was an empty socket.

"That's a few weeks along, isn't it?" Carole smiled as she knelt beside Burt.

"Nineteen days, Mrs. Carole."

"It's healing nicely, you're doing a good job taking care of it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Carole."

"Maybe after you take your painkillers we can go down to the hospital for a quick checkup and see about getting you a glass eye, what do you think about that?" While Carole was speaking Burt had picked up the pills and water from beside him on the floor and was now holding them out to Blaine.

"But make sure you take them with the water, okay? It makes it a bit easier to swallow them."

"Thank you, Mrs. Carole. Thank you, Mr. Burt." Blaine took the pills and then the water from Burt. After he had finished the glass of water both Carole and Burt stood. Burt took the empty glass while Carole returned to the counter and began spreading peanut butter across the remaining slice of toast.

Burt handed Blaine the glass of milk and told him to try it. As the boy sipped the different liquids Burt tried not to stare at his eye. He was glad that Carole had offered to take him to the hospital, seeing the empty socket had left him feeling a little queasy, and maybe she would be able to get him some painkillers stronger than Tylenol.

Carole walked back to Blaine and handed him the bread on the plate, making sure that he took both.

"And if and when you want to, you're always allowed to come and sit on a chair at the table with us." She rubbed his shoulder lightly before taking her own seat on the opposite side of Burt. Picking up his newspaper Burt distracted himself from watching the young boy currently licking the small trace of peanut butter that had been caught on his thumb before continuing to eat his bread in small, careful bites. Every once in a while Blaine would make soft noises as he enjoyed his meal, and as he even allowed himself the smallest lopsided grin, Burt doubted that he even realized he was making the sounds. When Blaine was finished Carole slid another slice onto his plate. The boy looked absolutely elated. His half grin faltered, however, when he saw Carole pick up the previously rejected slice with jam and take a bite of it herself.

"I'm sorry I fussed with my food, Mrs. Carole. My keepers shouldn't be eating my leftovers," he stared at the toast on the plate in front of him, "I don't deserve treats."

"I like jam, Blaine. And no one's making me eat anything I don't want to, just like we won't make you eat anything you don't like. If you want to eat nothing but peanut butter all day that's allowed. It's not a treat, Blaine. It's your breakfast. And you can always have as much of it as you want."

He still looked uncertain, but as Carole went back to eating, so did he. It wasn't a victory on anyone's part, but it was a small step in the right direction, and to Burt and Carole it counted for something.

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><p><strong>BALLS I'M SORRY.<strong>

**This took an incredibly long time to write, and I'm not going to bore you with why, but to sum it up I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to start this chapter. Like, at all. I went through about a dozen different beginnings that led me to dead ends, so that never happened. I feel much shame, and I am really going to try to make sure that doesn't happen again. I DO have a plan for this story, and once I get through these next two-ish chapters it should be smooth sailing, but this is sounding like excuses to me so I'm going to stop this now.**

**One-Eyed Lady: Thank you, I was worried that the name thing would be kind of cheesy, and I'm glad it didn't come off that way. I'm trying to get Kurt to take him shopping, but I think they'll have to get him an eye first. I tried really hard to make it Burt's perspective just for you, but I think Carole was upset that I ignored her for so long. Imagine how Kurt's gonna be…**

**Samantha-Lawrence: First off thank you :D! And second, oh man, I'm a little worried about the kind of author-insight I've given through my notes. I re-read a few of them and I sound absolutely cray-cray (but hey, aren't we all?)**

**Klaine Fearella: !#NamesAreWonderful :D**

**Hiki-nii: Thank you! Kurt absolutely terrifies me so I'm glad I got it kind of okay. I'm going to try to get another one up by the end of this week so that maybe the guilty bunnies will leave me.**

**Panda-hime: I think this may be going a little fast but screw it. I love you too. I'm so happy that you get my sense of humor. You have no idea how serious I was about actually going through with that. My author's notes are ridiculous and I fully acknowledge that, but I am pleased that they make you laugh!**

**RinzlerIsTron123: Oooh you should definitely post some stuff! It'll give me something to read while I procrastinate writing this!**

**Blainescrys: ThHhHHhAaaAAnNnNkKK YyyOooOUUuUU! (ps I wrote that in whale). But seriously, thanks. I love reading angst, but there's such a fine line as to what's good angst and what isn't, and I'm trying to write it on the kind of things I like to read, so I hope it's working. D:**

**ANONS!**

**Randomchild: DON'T DIE D: plz.**

**and Wild Phoenix: Thank you both! As far as Klaine goes, I'm really on the fence. With this kind of situation I find that when they establish a romantic relationship too fast I lose interest, so it's going to be some hardcore friendship first and I'll see how it goes from there. I really (obviously) don't like rushing things, so this'll probably take some time - just a warning to all you Klainers. Sorry**  
><strong>As for New Directions, I like torturing Blaine, and I've been toying with that idea for a while. My stories never really go as planned, but at the very least he'll meet the ND kids!<strong>

**Kate: I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry and THANK YOU!**

**Yes, thank you all oh so very much, and again I apologize for the delay.**

**"IT SHALL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN!" (she declares loudly as she runs to the corner to hide)**

**D}:**

**:{D**


	10. Chapter 10

**I would like to say an absolutely HUGE thank you to the One-Eyed Lady for her wonderful, wonderful info and time. Seriously, you helped so much, thank you for your offer and thank you for replying to all of my hundred questions, you are amazing!**

**In case you didn't notice, I changed my fanfic name. It's the same as my Tumblr, so feel free to look me up if you want (insert shameless pimping of pictures from Starkid's meet and greet here) :D**

**But seriously, One-Eyed Lady, thank you so much! You're the best!**

**And thank you all for reading, reviewing, and alerting! You're all the best! (I'll make it better next time, I swear!)**

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><p>Carole and Burt had remained silent, quietly going on with their usual business as Blaine finished his second slice of toast.<p>

Blaine swiped his thumb across the edge of the plate where a trace amount of peanut butter had fallen. Drawing his hand in close to his body, Blaine dropped his chin and angled his head so that he could glance at Burt. The older man quickly averted his eyes back to his paper and flipped the page. Blaine's eye stayed on him several moments more before he looked down at his hand. As his hand slowly slid up towards his mouth, the boy's eye continued to dart between it and the man beside him. It was obvious to Burt that Blaine was trying to be sneaky in cleaning his plate, but as he had to move his entire head to alternate his view, he was horribly, horribly failing.

As his thumb finally reached his mouth, he tilted his head again to watch Burt with his one wide eye. Even in his peripheral vision Burt could see how nervous Blaine was, but with his thumb in his mouth and his childish expression it was all so…adorable. Between his conspicuous movement and doe-eyed expression, Burt couldn't help but to laugh. The sudden sound caused Blaine to jump, and the boy quickly removed his thumb from his mouth and instead wrapped his fingers tightly around the plate. Burt tried to mask the laugh with a cough.

"Allergies," he choked out as Carole looked at him curiously. He grinned sheepishly as she raised her eyebrow, choosing not to question his reaction.

"For the last time, Finn, even if it fits, and even if he likes it, there is no way on earth that I will ever let him be seen in that God-awful jersey of yours."

Kurt burst through the doorway with an annoyed, but triumphant look on his face as he dropped a pair of plain white running shoes on the table in front of Burt. Finn followed soon after with shoulders sagging and his ragged old basketball jersey clenched loosely in his hand. It had been from his last year in middle school when his team had won their district tournament. He had been told to return it several times, but Finn had kept 'forgetting' to bring it to school, so eventually his coach forgot. Carole had told Burt that he had worn it with pride that entire summer, and when school started again he had used it as a pajama shirt. After his last growth spurt had occurred, he had been devastated to find that it no longer fit him. It didn't stop him from trying, however, as the three remaining members of the household had each been called at one point or another by a desperate Finn, who was struggling hard to free himself from the tiny shirt. Looking at it now, Burt was surprised that it was still all in one piece.

"I found shoes," Kurt stated, placing his hands on his hips, "shoes with no lace, zippers, buttons, bells, rhinestones, ribbons, tassels, or anything involving glue, thank you very much." Burt had to admit, Kurt had actually found quite a decent pair of running shoes. They were a little tattered from wear, but if they fit they'd work alright for the time being.

Carole looked down at the shoes before stifling a laugh. Kurt looked at her, hands still on his hips though his facial expression had become more confused.

"What," he asked.

"Honey," Carole started softly, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder, "those are my gardening shoes." Both Carole and Burt tried to control their laughter as Kurt rolled his eyes. Mid-way through he stopped, eyes narrowing to stare down at the floor beside Burt.

"Finn Hudson what are you doing."

Burt turned to his right to see his step-son freeze in place crouched next to Blaine. His arm was extended as he held out the jersey to Blaine, who had both of his own arms up against his chest, obviously rejecting the shirt. He had turned his head so that his burns were hidden against his shoulder.

"I was just seeing if he liked it," Finn said, blushing slightly, "but he won't even take it."

"That's because he has taste," Kurt retorted with a snort. Finn looked back to Blaine with a frown on his face.

"If you don't like it, that's okay," he said quietly, withdrawing his arm. Blaine sat stiffly for a moment before lowering his arms gradually.

"My hands are dirty, Mr. Finn. I don't want to get food on your shirt," he said ducking his head, causing his hair to fall in front of his face.

"Oh, that's okay, dude! I get stuff on this all the time. Pretty sure that stain right there is barbecue sauce from last time we made burgers."

"Oh gross, Finn. That was over a year ago, at least!" Kurt covered his mouth with his hand and shuddered, closing his eyes as Finn began to sniff the stain.

"Blaine, kid, if you want to wear it you can, but if you don't – and no one here would blame you for that – then you go ahead and tell Finn you don't want to." Burt had leaned forward to talk to Blaine directly, and lay what he hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder, using his thumb to rub the boy's tense muscles. Blaine eyed Burt carefully before shaking his head, eye flickering to Kurt.

"Mr. Kurt said no, sir." Kurt instantly looked guilty, and he hurried to crouch beside Finn.

"No, no, no, no, Blaine. I didn't mean that you couldn't wear it, it's just that this jersey is incredibly stained and disgusting, and, let's face it, it don't really flatter anyone, so I kind of assumed that you wouldn't want to, and I thought that Finn might make you feel like you had to, and…" he trailed off suddenly, his eyes narrowing, "why are you on the floor?" Kurt shifted to face Burt, who sighed heavily.

"Kurt – "

"Why is he on the floor?"

"Look, Kurt – "

"Did you tell him to sit there?" He looked back to Blaine. "Did he tell you to sit here?"

"No,"

"Yes, Mr. Kurt." Burt and Blaine both answered simultaneously, earning Burt a sharp glare from Kurt.

"Unbelievable," Kurt muttered, "Blaine, come on, you're going to sit up here at the table." Kurt stood and pulled out a chair for Blaine, who twitched his head in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kurt, I don't understand. I am at the table, sir." Burt moved to pull the chair back towards the table as he shook his head at Kurt, who pulled it further from Burt's grasp.

"In a chair, Blaine. You're allowed to sit in a chair at the table."

Blaine stiffened.

"A chair, sir? No, no, not allowed, sir, no, no, no," he repeated the word over and over, shaking his head, "not allowed, sir, no, not allowed."

"Kurt, honey, we tried. He doesn't want to, just leave him be," Carole smiled sadly at Kurt. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before nodding quickly in agreement.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, I don't know what I did…" he trailed off, staring at the boy whose head shot up to reveal his full face.

"I'm not listening, sir. I'm sorry I'm not listening. I'll do better, sir, I'll listen better." He hesitantly began to crawl towards Kurt. Placing his hands on the chair he stopped as Burt stood.

"Hey Kurt, Finn, why don't you two grab Blaine a sweater or something so we can take him for a checkup. Carole, d'you mind starting the car?" Carole nodded, ushering a pale Kurt and a curious Finn out of the kitchen. After they left, Burt picked the shoes off of the table and sat on the floor with a groan. Smiling at Blaine, he patted the space in front of him.

"How about we try these shoes on you, huh?"

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><p><strong>I know I said that this would be up earlier, but some stuff came up last weekend that really threw me. I'm still not sure what to make of it and I don't really want to go into detail, but things are settling down a bit so hopefully nothing else happens. Ugh now I'm sad. So I'm going to pimp my Starkid pics again because Apocalyptour was awesome, and happy thoughts trump sad thoughts! Plus I got a few awesome pictures with Joe, Joey, and Lauren, and I think it's super cool.<strong>

**wholock - no, I haven't abandoned. I know I've been neglecting this, but I really do plan on continuing this.**

**twostepper - Thank you so much! I'm sorry this is a bit filler, but hopefully the next will be better for you!**

**anabonsh - Ahhh! Thank you! I love finding those stories that you just have to read in one sitting, and I'm so glad that you did that with this! I know, I'm a little mean to Blaine, but I'll make it worth it...I think.**

**LL- Thank you so much! I'm glad their relationship's coming off okay, and I will get to more Kurt. I have a reason for making him the way he is, and I know this chapter's a little rough, but I'm going to hopefully be able to get some one-on-one with the two of them soon.**

**Panda-hime - Haha thanks! I really tried with that one, I'm glad it was sweet! :D I'm so glad you're enjoying the slow pacing, but the next one will definitely be less filler.**

**One-Eyed Lady - Seriously, again, you're awesome, thank you. I'll definitely be using your info in the next one, so thank you so much!**

**Kate - Ughh finals suck, but I'm sure you did awesome! I'm so happy you liked that line, I really didn't want it to come off cheesy. Hospital will fo-shiz be the next one!**

**randomchild - yay!Kurt!**

**Klaine Fearella - Thank you for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Aight, aight, aight! I lied, there is no hospital here. OooOOoOps! I'm super stoked though because I got them out of the house. That's why this one's longer, I didn't want to stop if no one had moved. I'll tell you, getting them out was like planning to go shopping with my sister. I'm sitting there yelling, 'let's go now!' and they're all like, 'not now, damn you!' But I won. Eventually. I think. Now prep yourselves for next chapter when these wonderful peeps spend 3,000 words in the car. :D**

**Again, thanks to all y'all for reading, reviewing, and alerting. You're all the best!**

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><p>"Carole – what happened to his face?" Kurt was pale, a tremor in his voice as he forced the words to leave his throat, "What did they do to him?"<p>

Finn was quiet, staring over his shoulder at the entranceway to the kitchen. Carole grabbed his sleeve and gently led both him and Kurt into the hallway towards Finn's room.

"We don't know what happened, that's why we're taking him to the hospital. It looks like it's healing quite well, but we don't know how badly his eye socket was damaged, or if he'll need help with cleaning it."

"Wait, so he doesn't even have an eye?" Kurt ran a hand through his hair as he pushed through Finn's door, collapsing onto his step-brother's bed. "I can't believe we're doing this to him," he said, burying his face in his hands. Carole moved to sit beside him, placing her hand on his knee.

"Kurt, we are nothing like the people who did that to him. We are nothing like them at all. We're going to take him to get him the help he needs, and afterwards – "

"Afterwards we'll drag him down to the garage so that we can train him to work for us. That's why he's here, isn't it, to work? My dad bought a damaged adoptive so that he wouldn't have to pay someone to do the work honestly. And yes, I know that money's tight, and that things at the shop aren't as good as they were before, but look around you. Look at this house, look at everything in this house. We're not starving, or wanting anything. We have all that we need and more, why couldn't we have made do with that?" His eyes were burning and his face had turned a dark pink. Taking a deep breath, his eyes began to water slightly before he closed his eyes.

"Kurt, honey, I know this is hard. Your father and I are going through the same emotions that you and Finn are. We tried to sell the house and you know that. We can't sell anything we have because no one is interested in buying it. You know this, Kurt. We can't afford full time labor, and we can't afford not to have anyone. If we had any idea how to fix this without having to buy a person we would have done it, or at the very least tried.

"The best we can do is be here for Blaine, because he needs us. Yes, we need him to work for us, and no, I'm not naïve enough to say that we're doing this for him, but maybe we can make his life a little easier than it would be otherwise. We can be kind to him, and treat him with respect. We can try, Kurt. We can try to make this a little easier on him, and on us, by putting in the effort to make him feel welcome. He didn't choose to be here, Kurt, but we can try to make him feel comfortable and safe here with us."

The room was silent apart from the occasional sniff from Carole. Kurt turned to her and took a slow breath in.

"And what are you going to do when he messes up – which he will. Are you going to ground him, take away his bed, his food, hit him, what? What are you going to do if it turns out that he can't do what we want him to? Are you going to return him, get a refund? A Home credit? What are you going to do if he isn't the solution to our problems? What are you going to do if it turns out that buying him was a mistake?"

"I don't know, Kurt."

Carole sniffed again, and Finn slowly dragged himself from where he had been listening in the doorway to the bed. Sitting beside his mother, he gently wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in an oversized embrace.

"With his face…is he in pain?"

"Yeah, honey, he is."

"So, you an' Burt are gonna take him to get something for that?" Carole let out a choked laugh.

"Yes, Finn, we are."

"Alright then," he started, standing up and offering both of his hands to Carole and Kurt, "we should probably get him something he can wear for that. That bag thing he has on doesn't look too comfy."

* * *

><p>Blaine sat quietly as he waited for Mr. Burt to speak. He knew he had done wrong. He knew it without a doubt in his mind that he had been bad – no, that he was bad – and that his keeper was wanting to correct his behaviour. When Mr. Burt had asked the rest of the family to leave the room, Blaine had felt instant gratification towards the older man. He knew it had been done for the sake of his own children so that they wouldn't see his punishment – wouldn't be forced into the feeling of shame that comes from owning something so broken; so damaged and useless. Mr. Burt had asked his family to leave so that they wouldn't have to know how much shame he had caused them, or how difficult he was to fix. Maybe his keeper would yell at him. Maybe he would hit. No matter the punishment, Blaine had little doubt of how painful it would be. The Home had said he was difficult. He had 'kinks' and, 'glitches' that they could never seem to fix – at least since his final punishment from his previous keeper.<p>

Blaine closed his eye and bent low to bow before his keeper. He kept his hands flattened against the cool tile flooring, careful not to mistakenly touch the man before him.

'_Stay low, stay submissive.'_

A hand was on his shoulder.

'_Don't move until you are forgiven.'_

He couldn't stop the tremors he felt starting deep within his chest, snaking quickly throughout his limbs and extremities.

'_Be quiet.'_

His breathing was too loud. Too ragged. Too heavy.

'_If your keeper punishes you, it is because you deserve punishment. It does not matter if you __**feel**__ you did or did not deserve punishment. Your keeper chose to give you one, therefore __**you deserve it**__.'_

He opened his mouth a little wider, hoping to draw in more air more slowly.

'_And never, ever, beg.'_

"Please."

Somehow Blaine's hands had entangled themselves in the loose denim of his keeper's jeans, holding tightly to the fabric outside the man's thighs. The word had slipped out, and for a moment he hadn't been sure that he had said it at all. But then he heard it again. And again. And suddenly it was as if the word was repeating itself.

"Please, please, please, please."

It came out in a whisper, and Blaine found himself drifting away from the moment he was in, retreating into his mind full of rules and consequences. His keeper would punish him, but that didn`t mean he wasn`t capable of punishing himself as well. He didn't have a choice, really. The Home had tried to re-train him after, and though he knew every action and every response he had ever been taught, he couldn't make himself act upon it.

He couldn't hear their words without flinching, or sit still when they hit him. He couldn't do it anymore. But he would try. Oh, he would try so hard. Mr. Burt had been kind to him – he had allowed him to sleep and eat before he had even completed his first task. He had been given a name. There was no audience present to witness his embarrassment while he was punished. At less than a day, Blaine had never before wanted to do so well or be as obedient as he did for the Hummel family. They were kind, and he didn't want to be returned again.

That would be the last strike for him, and he knew it.

* * *

><p>Burt sat silently with his hand on Blaine's shoulder as he shook. He had thought it would be easier to talk to the boy without any distractions from the other members of the household. Quiet as he was, Blaine had seemed genuinely curious while he had tasted the new foods, and appeared distraught at not thinking he was allowed to wear Finn's old jersey. He was curious as hell, and Burt knew that with so many other people in the room it would be hard to keep his focus on one issue at a time. Even if he was listening , there would be no guarantee that he would have heard or comprehended what was said at all.<p>

"Blaine," he said, rubbing his adoptive's shoulder with one hand and fiddling with the laces of the shoes in the other, "Blaine, c'mon, bud. Can you sit up for me, please?" The muscled shoulder beneath his fingertips tensed, and soon the boy's bushy curls shifted away from his face as Blaine raised his head.

"Hey, bud," Burt said softly, "mind if we chat a little? You're not in trouble, I promise."

Blaine nodded and propped himself up so that he was resting on his hands and knees.

"Thanks, buddy, now could you do me a favour and sit on your bum for me so we can get these shoes on you?" The boy quickly shifted again into a sitting position, hands grasping at his thighs. Burt handed him the shoes, and cautiously Blaine began to try them on.

"There weren't this many people in the last house you were at, were there, Blaine?"

"No, Mr. Burt."

"It's a bit of a change, huh?"

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

They sat together silently as Blaine slid on the shoes. They looked to be a little big on him – which was fortunate for them. On top of everything else he was dealing with, Burt would have hated having to make Blaine wear cramped shoes.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Burt asked suddenly, looking expectantly at Blaine.

"Sir?" Blaine cocked his head and paused his actions, a shoelace clutched in each hand. Burt sighed and scratched his head, not knowing how to coax the small boy into talking.

"Well, I know that having you here is a bit of a big change for us, so I can't begin to even really imagine how difficult this whole situation here is for you. Is there anything…maybe you might wanna, y'know, talk about some of the stuff you're going through right now?" He looked up at Blaine, whose lips were pursed, one eye darting from side to side across the floor. He tilted his head, causing his burn to catch the light and give off a dull shimmer. The empty socket was hidden by his closed lid, but a small amount of moisture seemed to escape from it. Burt felt his heart jolt when he realized that the boy was trying hard not to cry.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Burt," he whispered in a shaking voice, "I didn't realize how much of a burden I am to you. I'll do better, sir. I swear I will." He flinched as he finished, shaking his head as if reprimanding himself for something that he had said.

"Blaine, remember I told you you're not in trouble? I mean it. You're a great kid, Blaine, and I know that this is hard for you. I just want you to feel comfortable here, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright," Burt twisted, cracking his back before resting his elbows on his crossed legs, clasping his hands together, "we're going to go over a few ground rules now, and if there's any reason at all that you don't like something, or you want to add or change stuff you can, alright?" Blaine nodded sharply.

"Yes, sir."

"First things first; absolutely nothing in this house is off limits to you. If you're hungry, feel free to root through the fridge or the pantry, anything you can find. If you're bored, you can watch TV, play video games, whatever you want. Hey, if you like gardening or something like that, that's alright too, you can do it. Anything you want, go for it. You have your own room, and none of us will ever just barge in on you. There's a lock on your door, and you can use it any time. That being said, we also ask that you respect our privacy, and if you want or need anything from us when we're in our bedrooms, we'd like for you to knock first.

"We'll have three set meals a day, but like I said, if you get hungry in between then you can have whatever you feel like. The same rule goes for Finn and Kurt, if we ever make something that you really don't like, you can make something else that you do, but you've gotta do cleanup for the whole kitchen after.

"We all help out with things around the house, and we have a chore schedule for Kurt and Finn, but for now we're going to keep you off of it. We're going to have you working at my auto shop, and we want to see how you can handle that before we add things at home. Does that sound fair to you?" Burt looked at Blaine, who had sat very still while he was speaking. He opened his mouth a little before closing it and settling on a nod. Burt continued.

"Like I said, we're going to get you at the auto shop a few days a week. You're going to start out doing some inventory for me, and we'll see how you are with the books. I ran this place by myself for twenty years, but I can't do that anymore. I'm going to be getting you to shadow me for some of the easier things like oil changes, and I might talk through you how to do some things like tire changes, because I can't be doing any lifting. I think you'll catch on pretty fast, and if it takes a while for some things that's okay. I just need someone there for an extra hand. I don't expect you to be perfect, and if you have any questions about anything at all I encourage you to ask – both at the shop and at home here. That being said, I know this is a lot of stuff coming at you right now, but I'd like to know how you're feeling about all of this."

Blaine sat a little straighter and brought his eye up to Burt, scanning his face carefully. They made eye contact, and the boy quickly looked away.

"Do you have any questions, Blaine?"

"No, sir."

"Blaine," Burt leaned forward, placing his hand on the boy's knee, "I know this is a lot, and I know that you have to have questions or concerns about something. It's okay, you're allowed to ask."

The boy fidgeted and pulled on the laces of his shoes.

"Th – " he cut himself off, shaking his head forcefully.

"It's okay, Blaine." The boy took a deep breath.

"The room, sir. The one from last night. I can sleep in it?"

"Yeah you can, kid. It's yours." Blaine ducked his head, pressing his cheek to his shoulder. Twisting the laces in his hands he gave a small smile and a quiet giggle.

"Mine," he whispered, smile widening before disappearing altogether. "Sorry, Mr. Burt," he mumbled a little louder than before.

"Don't apologize, Blaine. You can ask anything you want to. Is there anything else?" Blaine stayed silent and Burt removed his hand. "That's alright, you don't have to ask now. Anytime something comes up that you aren't sure about or want to know you can ask any one of us, okay?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Burt. Thank you."

"Alright, well let's get those shoes tied and we'll be on our way. I'll go see if Carole's ready and we'll meet you at the door."

Burt left the kitchen without looking back at Blaine. He found Carole already by the door holding a bright red sweater and a pair of black sweat pants.

"This is the best we could find for now," she said, "we wanted to make sure he was comfortable, and everything else would have been too big or too small."

"I don't think he'll care much about that."

They waited a few minutes in silence before they heard the light clunking sound of shoes on flooring. Blaine appeared a moment later with his head down and shoulders slumped.

"Hey, Blaine," Burt walked over towards the boy, holding the sweater out, "how about you put these on and we'll be all set to go."

Blaine took the clothing from Burt reluctantly.

"Can-"

"Yes, Blaine?" The boy held the clothes tightly before he spoke again.

"Would I be allowed to wear Mr. Finn's shirt, Mr. Burt?"

"Absolutely, Blaine." Burt began walking down the hall towards Finn's room. Carole moved beside Blaine and spoke quietly to him.

"You don't have to wear it just because Finn wanted you to, Blaine."

"I would like to, if it's alright, Mrs. Carole." He paused and looked at her shoulder. "Mr. Finn likes his shirt, Mrs. Carole."

"Yes, Blaine."

"Maybe…maybe if I wear it, he will like me too." He spoke so quietly that Carole almost missed his words.

"Oh honey," she said, stepping in front of the boy and wrapping her arms around him before she could think to stop herself, "he likes you just fine, no matter what you wear. He already likes you so much, but if it'll make you happy, you go ahead and wear it, alright?" She let him go and raised a hand to stroke his good cheek. Taking the clothing from his hands she placed the sweater carefully on the floor. Unfolding the sweats she held them for Blaine to step into. He took hold of the waistband from her as he slid them on as Carole pretended not to see that Blaine was not wearing underpants. He took his own shirt off to reveal his lightly muscular torso and arms. Carole was relieved to see that apart from some light bruising, there was no sign of abuse or burns apart from his face. They'd still get him a full body checkout, but she didn't see reason to believe that there was more pain caused by something apart from his facial burns. Burt returned a moment later with the jersey in hand. Carole saw the same relief she had felt reflected in his face as he looked over the boy's body.

"Here ya go, kid," Blaine took the jersey from Burt and put it on over his head, "ready to go?"

"Not yet, Mr. Burt." Burt frowned and looked at Blaine, whose good cheek had gone a surprising shade of red. "I've never had shoes before," he mumbled, "I don't know how to tie them, could you please show me?" Blaine sounded so timid as he spoke. His body seemed to shrink a few sizes, and his eye darted nervously between the two, as if waiting to see how they would react to him having spoken out of turn.

"Sure thing, kid," Burt said, crouching at Blaine's feet. He pulled the laces from where Blaine had tucked them into his shoes, and gestured for Blaine to sit down too.

"Alright, so I'll do this one, and you repeat what I do on that one, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, so you take these two like this, see? Good. Now, take one and you're going to make a loop out of it just like this. No, not quite like that, but close. Alright, that's looking better. Now – "

Carole watched as Burt patiently walked Blaine through how to tie his shoe. Blaine was having a bit of a difficult time as he had to move his entire head to glance from Burt to the shoe and back to Burt again. His hair kept falling into his eye, and Carole made plans to cut it once they returned home again. Blaine looked determined, though, and when Burt finally smiled and told him he'd done alright, the beaming proud smile on Blaine's face made her heart wrench happily at knowing that it was her husband who helped put it there. The two men stood and followed her out of the house and into the truck. After Blaine had settled himself in the back, Carole took her space in the passenger side of the car. Glancing over her shoulder, she snuck a look at Blaine, whose smile had almost fully disappeared, but the look of pride still reflected strongly in his eye.

* * *

><p><strong>Yaaaay!Car ride! Too bad I'm not going all puppy-Blaine. That could be fun.<strong>

**LL - Thank you! I do like writing Finn, I think he started out as a great character in the show but then they really destroyed him, so I like to write him from memory of what he had been before...**

**And omg Starkid makes life so much more delicious, so I'm going to keep MAMD on repeat until everything sad goes away. Good plan, right? :D**

**randomchild - Thanks! Again, so glad Kurt's coming off okay. Like I've said before, he's terrifying. One of these days there's going to be a chapter where in the middle of a line Kurt's going to explode in a rant about how wrong I'm writing him, and I'm going to get threatened in some horrible way. I apologize in advance for his outburst, and would like to encourage anyone and everyone to just skip over that part and pretend it never happened. I know I will.**

**anabonsh - Thank you! I didn't really give much of a reaction because I think for the most part they'll be kind of shocked. Burt had the file as warning, and Carole's a nurse, so they both kind of knew what to expect. It'll probably come up again when they're all face to face again.**

**Nurse Kate - Thank you! Yessums, quite odd, I do agree, but I'm glad you continued! I'm going to try to do more from Blaine's POV, but it takes a lot out of me to think like that. Again, thanks for reading!**

**Aight, thank you all again for your wonderful reviews and your time and attention. Hope you like it, but for now I'm off! It's elephant sweater making time! :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm such a douche. I finished about 90% of this the day after I posted the last chapter, but I didn't want to write the part from the car to the hospital because it's boring. That's the reason why. I suck and I know. Sorry!**

**I'm going to give a trigger warning for this one. Mentions of rape and abuse. Sorry again!**

**And another, large, wonderful, crazy awesome thank you to The One-Eyed Lady for all her beautiful and wonderful insight and info. You da best!**

* * *

><p>As soon as they started moving Burt turned on the radio. It wasn't that he was opposed to silence, but the last car ride with Blaine had been a little more than he'd anticipated. Carole kept up a steady stream of chatter and Burt cut in occasionally. Blaine seemed to have no interest in their conversation, only staring out the window and watching as the houses passed by them.<p>

When they reached the hospital, all three piled out of the car. Blaine's look of pride had since been replaced with one of apprehension, and Carole rubbed his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting motion. She took the lead as they entered the building, immediately taking them to the pediatric ward.

"Hi, Jane," Carole smiled warmly as she greeted the receptionist. The woman smiled back at her and returned the sentiment.

"Is Edwards around," Carole asked. Jane looked over Carole's shoulder, eyes widening slightly when she saw Blaine's mangled face.

"Of course, I'll page him for you. Does he know you're coming?" Carole nodded.

"I called him earlier this morning, he'd better."

Carole led Blaine into one of the examination rooms, leaving Burt in the waiting room. She smiled at the boy before patting the table, encouraging him to sit up on it.

A few moments later a small, grey haired man appeared. His thick lensed glasses seemed to magnify his bright sparkling eyes, and he grinned widely when he saw Carole, even more so when he saw the boy huddled behind her.

"You must be Blaine," he greeted, "so wonderful to meet you."

"Thank you, sir," Blaine responded, eyeing Carole. The woman smiled.

"Alright, Blaine. I'm going to be right outside the door if you need anything. Dr. Edwards is a really nice man, and he's just going to do a quick check up for you, alright?" Blaine nodded and Carole smiled again, patting his knee. "I'll see you really soon, Blaine."

* * *

><p>Blaine tried not to watch as Mrs. Carole left the room. He'd wanted her to leave, but at the same time he had the overwhelming urge to run from the man with the gloves and stand close to her until she gave him more of her gentle touches. He had to be good for that, though, and right now he had to listen to the man in front of him.<p>

"Okay there, Blaine, we're just going to give you a little checkup to see how you're doing. Can you take off your shirt for me?"

He hesitated for barely a moment. Mr. Finn had trusted him with his own clothing, and now some stranger wanted it. He hated asking questions, and the man would probably inform Mr. Burt and Mrs. Carole that he had misbehaved, but this was Mr. Finn's shirt. He couldn't just give it up because he was scared.

"I'm sorry, sir, but will…will I be allowed to have it back?" The doctor looked at him curiously for a moment before giving him a half smile.

"Of course you can, Blaine. This is just so I can get a better look at you and make sure that nothing else is hurting you. As soon as we're done with that you can put it back on, alright? I promise, I'll make this as fast as I can."

"Thank you, sir." Blaine pulled off the jersey quickly, afraid that he had already upset the doctor. In his haste the harsh material on the neck of the jersey scratched at his face, and Blaine couldn't help but give the smallest of whimpers. He hoped the doctor hadn't heard him.

Chancing a look at his face, Blaine saw that the doctor was turned away from him, and instead was focused on breathing on the end of a metal device. The doctors at the Home had many of the same tools this one had in his office, but Blaine had never known what any of them were. He had always just sat silently and let them do their work, trying to pretend that he wasn't afraid that this would be the time that their tools would hurt, or that it would be the time he was given The Injection.

'_Stop thinking'_

He focused his gaze on the brightly coloured chart in front of him.

'_Everything always gets worse if you let yourself think about it.'_

Blaine could never stop thinking. He glanced again at the doctor, who was wrapping one end of the metal device around his neck. When he was younger, Blaine's mind had managed to convince itself that the strange apparatus was one of the animals from his learning books. It had always served as a good distraction, and now, in this strange new room, Blaine tried to push away his apprehension by imagining that this animal was coming over to say a friendly hello.

"Do you know what this is, Blaine?"

"An elephant, sir," _Blaine, you idiot,_ "I mean, I'm sorry sir, I don't know, sir." Blaine's one cheek burned red, and the other just burned. He had messed up. "I'm sorry," he repeated again, clasping his arms together in front of his stomach and drawing his shoulders forward. The doctor let out a loud, sharp laugh.

"You know, I never thought of it like that, but I guess it kind of does look like an elephant, doesn't it?" The man shook the end up and down a few times, letting the 'trunk' flail around. He laughed again before smiling back at Blaine. "This is actually called a stethoscope, Blaine, and it's so that I can listen to your heart and make sure there aren't any problems with how it's beating. I'm actually going to take your blood pressure first, though, and that's with this cuff right here." The doctor proceeded to explain how the device worked, and Blaine listened along intently. Everything took longer than Blaine was used to, but no one had ever taken the time to tell him what they were doing, they had just done it. It didn't feel as long either as he listened to the doctor prattle on about different terminology and what it all meant. The man seemed relatively pleased when he had found that, apart from his face, Blaine had no serious injuries.

"Just a bit of bruising, but other than that you're looking pretty good, kid," he commented, feeling Blaine's ribs, "but I'm going to ask you a very serious question, alright?" The doctor stood up and moved until he was beside Blaine, looking at his eye, but keeping a slight distance away. "These bruises you have, can you tell me how you got them, Blaine?" They both sat for a moment in silence. Blaine hated this. Hated talking about this. It was something that always made him feel so…worthless. His first Keepers, the Home after he was returned, they always wanted to know how used he was. How much experience he had. He knew he was an object – an accessory. He was something to make life easier for _real_ people, but this part of it – he could never get used to how hollow and helpless it made him feel.

"I was working, sir."

It wasn't a lie. Maybe the doctor would leave it at that.

"What kind of work were you doing, Blaine?"

'_You were asked a question. Answer it.'_

Silence.

'_ANSWER , DAMNIT.'_

"Bedroom work, sir."

The doctor gave him a small, reassuring smile before he moved to crouch in front of Blaine.

"I know this is uncomfortable, Blaine, but I'm going to have to run a few more tests just to make sure that you're okay." The man stood and moved towards his desk.

"I'm clean, sir." He chanced a glance up and saw the doctor turn to look at him. "I was tested at the Home, sir. I don't have any diseases."

The testing at the Home had been almost as bad as the initial experience. Blaine felt his skin crawl as he thought about repeating the actions again. So many hands touching and grabbing him, talking about him like he wasn't there. He dropped his head to hide his trembling jaw. He didn't want this. Didn't want to be touched like this. Suddenly he wanted Mrs. Carole and Mr. Burt to come back. They gave him gentle touches. He liked that. He liked that their hands were warm and soft. They didn't grab, just touched.

"Alright, Blaine, we won't test for that then. That means we just have one more thing before we're done. I'm going to take a look at your face now. We're just going to make sure that everything's healing okay, and that your eye's staying clean." The doctor took a step forward and reached out towards Blaine's face. Reached to where Blaine couldn't see. He jerked away quickly as he felt the heat of the man's hand on the side of his face. He didn't want him touching. The man said something that Blaine didn't register before the boy again felt the man's hand on his face.

'_You've already misbehaved too many times today, don't give him another reason to punish you.'_

Overwhelmed with a sense of panic, Blaine felt the cold hard floor under his knees and palms before he even registered moving. He felt his hands slide forward until his forearms too were pressed against the ground. He didn't want to be touched by this man. He didn't like stranger touches. He wanted Mr. Burt and Mrs. Carole. They didn't touch his face. His face hurt. They wouldn't touch it. They wouldn't let the doctor touch it. At least, he didn't think they would.

Blaine vaguely acknowledged that the doctor had crouched in front of him, but it didn't fully register until the man's hand was placed on top of his. He jerked it away.

'_Listen to him,' _the voice in his head commanded. His right shoulder felt warm and he wrenched it back quickly, turning his head towards it, hiding his face and angling his head so that the doctor in front of him couldn't escape his view. The man touched. He touched his face. Blaine would stop him, he had to. He couldn't let them touch his face.

'_This is why you're bad.'_

He couldn't let the man touch his face. He couldn't. He was blind on one side, completely vulnerable to whatever the doctor wanted to do to him. He wouldn't be able to see what was to come. But if the doctor went for the other side of his face…

'_You're damaged, boy. You're next to useless. This is why you're bad. You're useless and you don't listen when you're told.'_

He only had one eye left. The doctor couldn't touch that one either. He wouldn't let him. Blaine had to keep him away.

'_Stop. Stop and let him touch. If you don't, they'll see how useless and damaged you really are. They'll take away the only thing that's keeping you useful.'_

Blaine had to stop him from touching.

'_Stop fighting or they'll take it away.'_

Blaine couldn't help it. He had to keep him from taking his other eye.

* * *

><p>Outside in the waiting room Carole and Burt sat none too patiently. Burt had found himself a magazine to flip through aimlessly while Carole chewed on her fingernails. She knew that Kurt would berate her for it later, but at the moment she didn't care.<p>

"Do you think he'll be alright," she asked her husband, worry evident in her voice. Burt cleared his throat, closing the magazine.

"I don't know, Carole,"

"They've been in there for a while."

"He's just doing a checkup, you know it takes time."

The door to the room opened and both looked up to see Dr. Edward's tight lipped smile.

"How did it go," Carole asked standing.

"It's still going," he answered, running his hand through his hair, "Blaine has light bruising on his body from sexual abuse, which isn't at all uncommon for adoptives, but apart from that and his face he's physically fine."

"But what about his face," Burt cut in, standing beside Carole. Edwards sighed.

"Blaine's a bit… skittish. He's not really too comfortable with me touching it, and frankly I don't blame him. That's actually the reason I'm out here. I think Blaine would be more comfortable if one of you were in there with him."

"I don't know," Burt started, "he doesn't really like crowds, too many people seems to scare him, I'm not sure if he'd appreciate us being there."

"While I do agree that that probably isn't something Blaine wants, it's something that he subconsciously needs. Adoptives don't grow up the same way that regular children do. For the most part, they aren't given toys to play with, they aren't allowed to make mistakes, and if they do they aren't allowed to grow and learn from it like regular children, they're punished. They don't grow up learning right from wrong, it's something that's told to them. Blaine hasn't mentally progressed the same way as a normal child has," Edwards held up a hand defensively as Burt started to object, "that doesn't mean that Blaine isn't smart, it just means that you can't treat him like you treat your other kids."

"What do you mean by that," Burt asked, bristling slightly.

"When children are young, you can tell them to do something and they'll do it. Why? Because mummy said, or because daddy said. Then when they're older, they learn to make decisions for themselves. Blaine was never allowed to move past the 'mummy said' stage. When it comes to decision making, Blaine is mentally still a very young child. He has the ability to do other things, he can learn and put what he's learned into practice, but he needs to be told what to do. As his keepers, you are his stand in parents. What you say goes, and that's why he listens to you. I'm a stranger to him, and I'm not his keeper. I can tell him what to do, and he has to listen to me, but ultimately you're the ones he has to answer to. I can tell him to let me touch him, and I have the ability to punish him if I see fit, but it doesn't mean as much coming from me. He doesn't trust me like he trusts you, and that's why he does need one of you in there to hold his hand through this. He's scared, and though his body may not trust you or want you there, his mind needs you to be."

Burt nodded. It made sense. Turning to Carole, he was surprised to see that she was no longer beside him. Dr. Edwards gave him another weary smile before he motioned towards the door, allowing Burt to step through.

Carole was on the floor beside Blaine, who, still bowed, had turned his head into her thigh. She was stroking his shoulder gently and speaking to him quietly. Burt noticed that Blaine was shaking. The two adults made eye contact, and Carole blinked back tears.

"Hey, kid," Burt said, crouching a few feet in front of Blaine, whose head lifted slightly, "I know this isn't fun, but we're going to need you to sit up for a few more minutes and then we can go, alright?"

Slowly, the boy crawled up onto his hands.

"Good boy," Burt praised, standing up himself. He felt his back pop and cursed inwardly. This boy was going to be the death of his spine. Carole followed suit and took a place on the examination table, patting the space beside her lightly so that Blaine could sit. He did, but as soon as Dr. Edwards moved closer, he buried his face into his own shoulder and touched his forehead to Carole's arm.

"It's okay, Blaine," she whispered, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, "you're doing so good, you're such a good boy, Blaine. It'll all be over soon, you're being so good."

Blaine stiffened at the words, slowly drawing his head out from his shoulder. As Dr. Edwards reached again for his face, Blaine's one eye looked at Burt. Burt smiled and joined in giving words of encouragement. The doctor removed Blaine's collar, and still the boy's gaze never faltered. This was the first time that Blaine had voluntarily made eye contact with Burt and kept it. Burt focused all his attention on not looking away from Blaine, who winced and whimpered as the doctor cleaned him. Burt couldn't tell how long they were there for, but he could've sworn that Blaine didn't blink once during the entire ordeal. His wide hazel eye stared through Burt as if he were the only thing keeping him from bolting. Burt would have believed he was too, were it not for the boy's death grip on his wife's hand.

"All done, Blaine. That wasn't too bad, was it?" Edwards smiled and patted Blaine's knee. The boy jolted and quickly broke his stare with Burt, eye downcast as he mumbled an apology for being difficult.

"You did wonderfully, Blaine," Carole cooed, placing a hand on his good cheek and turning his head so that he could see her smile, "you were so good today." Blaine smiled bashfully as Burt reiterated the sentiment.

"In fact," Dr. Edwards said, moving behind his desk and into his drawer, "you were so good, Blaine, that I have a little something for you." Blaine's head peaked slightly with interest, staring at the drawer the doctor had pulled open. Dr. Edwards smiled, and pulled from the drawer a handful of brightly colored suckers.

"Which color would you like, Blaine?" Blaine's eye widened and he looked at Carole and Burt apprehensively.

"Go on, kid, you can take one." He looked back at Dr. Edwards' hand before ducking his head and shaking it.

"Thank you, sir, but I don't need rewards. I wasn't good, sir."

"Oh, but you were, Blaine. You were so good." The man gently took Blaine's hand and placed all five of the candies into his palm. "How about you have one of each, and then you can decide which one's your favourite. Then next time you come back I'll have another one waiting for you."

"Why does he need to come back," Burt asked frowning.

"We need to give him another month for the socket to heal and then we'll fit him for a prosthetic eye. In the meantime, try to make sure that he keeps his eye covered so that he doesn't get an infection. And no rubbing it," he warned, turning to Blaine, "if it itches, make sure to rub towards your nose, and always, always, wash your hands before you touch it, alright?" Blaine nodded. "Good boy. You've done great keeping it clean so far, but we want to make sure that it stays that way.

"I'm going to give you some antibiotic cream for your face. Carole also knows about second degree burns, so I'll leave that to her, but you make sure that you're washing it daily and reapplying whenever you need it. If you need help, don't be afraid to ask Carole or Burt, and if you run out of cream that's alright, just let Carole know and she'll get you more. Now, the burn on your neck isn't as bad, but – "

"Wait, the one on his neck?" Burt's eyes shot up in alarm, and he moved closer to Blaine to look.

"It's just a simple metal burn, so it's not as bad as his face, but keep an eye on that too just to make sure it's healing well."

Burt carefully moved Blaine's hair away from his neck, seeing a dark red line where his collar had previously covered it. It wasn't anywhere near as bad looking as the rest of his face, but Burt still bit his lip in an effort not to show how angry he was that someone had hurt the young boy.

"Like I said, it's not as bad as the oil burn on his face, but I'd keep it under supervision nonetheless."

Burt nodded, trying to imagine how someone could use not one but two methods to burn a child.

Thanking Dr. Edwards, the three made their way out to the car. Blaine trudged along behind the other two, trying not to look at the suckers in his hands, but failing miserably. Blaine bumped into their truck and looked up embarrassed. Burt stifled a chuckle before opening the door to let the boy in.

"Seat belt," he had to remind, and the boy blushed before pulling the belt across his body, clicking it into place.

"Well, that's one down," Carole said, fastening her own belt, "now let's go shopping."

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><p><strong>LINES.<strong>

**Ehehe done.**

**Not the story, just l'hôpital part!**

**Hiki-nii - Yes! And they're getting longer too (yaay!) I do try, so thank you kindly for your time :D**

**Girlsrule2424 - Thank'ya! I do like me some smut, but for this I think I should give it a bit of time before I throw that in. It'll probably be painfully awkward smut, but meh. It might be good for a laugh!**

**anabonsh and my anon - it's kind of funny to me because I actually almost cut that line because I didn't know if I liked it. I'm glad you both did, though! :D**

**TwistedRocketPower - NewFriendNewFriendNewFriend! I think. Gawd, if you're not a new friend and I just did that I'm going to feel like such a douche. In case of that crisis - !**

**(ps I know that there are more new friends from last chapter, but unfortunately I can't NewFriend!everyone. Just know that I'm thinking of you. And that I chant this in my mind whenever I have new friends).**

**Rory46 - I'm sorry I took so long, but I shall try harder for you! Thanks for reading!**

**LL - Totally awesome plan! Glad I killed you with giggles. If I had to choose a way to go...that'd probs be it. I'm sorry I skipped the car ride. Maybe I'll make it a side drabble. They'll go to the circus and Blaine will be recruited by a trapeze artist in search of a high flying partner. This trapeze artist will later be found to share the name Blaine, and in an ironic twist turns out to be Kurt's boyfriend Blaine, who has been strangely absent in the past 22,000 words of this story.**

**Kate - Thank you! I made this (mostly) Blaine with you in mind, I hope it's alright! I will try to update sooner rather than later!**

**randomchild - I'm glad you didn't need it. Because I did. Don't worry, I'll take care of it. I shall feed it pancakes and take it to see the Notebook. It'll be swell. And fun. And super heartfelt emotional.**

**mushs-grl13 - I keep trying to say your name but I caaan't. I'm trying really hard, though. I will perfect it soon enough. And thank you for reading and reviewing!**

**KlainePotter - Your name is much easier to say. Thank you for thinking my story is cute (ps, it thinks you're pretty cute, too :0)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer (cause I never do this): I don't own Glee, I have nothing to do with anything. If I did write Glee, I'm quite sure I'd have a number of people after me for a wide assortment of various and valid reasons.**

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><p>Kurt huffed loudly to himself as he shifted his hips, trying to relieve the strain on his back that had been caused by standing for the past two and a half hours. His father had told him that after the checkup he and Carole would be taking Blaine to the thrift store for some new used clothes. Under normal circumstances, Kurt himself would rather wear last year's fashions for an entire month's duration before he would be caught dead in a thrift store – but these weren't normal circumstances.<p>

Before the arrival of Blaine, both Carole and Burt had sat both him and his step-brother down to explain the situation and why it was that they felt they needed "the extra hand". Kurt had been (and still was) furious that it had even been suggested as an option, and downright disgusted at the knowledge that they had indeed gone through with it. But as disgusted as Kurt was (and as much as he would deny it), actually meeting the boy with no name and seeing how hurt and how afraid he was made Kurt feel like maybe, just maybe, they could make a difference in his life. They were still using him, but maybe they could help him a little too. After all, Blaine had no face. The least they could do was give him a moderately fashionable set of pre-used clothing.

And that was the reason why Kurt had voluntarily spent the better part of an hour on two city busses that had taken him to the most volatile place that he had ever been. So volatile, in fact, that Kurt had opted against taking a seat on the solitary gum-stained metal bench out front, or even leaning against the possibly wet, possibly dirty, brick wall of the store. He had opted to stand on the bus, too, and as well chose to ignore the yellow stickered warning to "please hold on" to the sticky looking handrail.

Thank Grilled Cheesus for the Cheerios.

Kurt closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief as he finally saw his father's truck pull into the parking lot. Burt was the first to exit the truck, and walked several meters towards Kurt with an inquisitive look on his face.

* * *

><p>"Oh, Burt look. Kurt's here," Carole said excitedly as she pointed at the boy.<p>

"Wonder how he got all the way out here," Burt mumbled as he pulled into a spot, "let's get goin', shall we?" Unstrapping his seatbelt Burt heard Carole do the same. Looking back over his shoulder he saw Blaine sitting very still, not making any move to exit the truck.

"Blaine, you okay there, bud," the two adults looked at each other when he didn't answer. Carole nodded her head towards Kurt, indicating that Burt should go.

"_I'll talk to him,"_ she mouthed. Reluctantly, Burt nodded and stepped out of the truck and headed forward to meet Kurt.

"Are you alright, sweetheart," she asked, reaching out her arm to stroke his knee softly before retracting her hand again. He'd seemed almost embarrassed after the attention they'd given him in the doctor's office and she didn't want to overwhelm him.

"I can't go in, Mrs. Carole," he whispered, body tightening in on itself.

"Why not, honey?"

"Because," he paused to swallow, "I don't have my collar, Mrs. Carole." Sighing, she reached into her purse.

"I have that here, Blaine. I know that you're supposed to wear it, but I was hoping we could find you a new one today, maybe one that doesn't rub your neck as much. Here," she held out the collar to Blaine, silently asking permission to put it on him. He leaned forward and she fastened it as loosely as she could. "And, while we're adding things to your wardrobe, I have a new eye patch for you. It's smaller than your other one, but it won't rub against your face as much either. There we are. All better?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Carole," he replied, though he still made no move to exit the truck. Carole stared at him for a long moment.

"What else is bothering you, Blaine?" He didn't answer. "Is this about the hospital?" He shook his head. Carole watched as his eye flickered out the window of the truck and to where Burt and Kurt were talking.

"Is it…Kurt?" Blaine's head bowed lower. "Do you not like Kurt, Blaine?" He shrunk lower.

"I like all my keepers, Mrs. Carole."

"But Kurt's not your favourite."

"He's very loud, Mrs. Carole." Carole laughed.

"I know. He can be a little loud – and opinionated – but he's really nice, Blaine. It's just harder for him to show it sometimes."

"He doesn't like me," Blaine barely whispered the words, but Carole heard them.

"Oh sweetie," she reached out again to place her hand on his knee, "of course he does. Kurt's mad at me and his father, but he likes you, I know he does. Besides, what's not to like about you, huh?" Taking her hand off his knee she moved it up to his chin, tickling it lightly. Blaine couldn't suppress the crooked smile that took over his face, nor could he stop the quiet giggle from escaping his lips as he squirmed under Carole's touch. Drawing her hand away Blaine smiled bashfully at her before his smile drooped slightly.

"He really likes me?"

"Of course he does." Blaine smiled again before it fell from his face. Bending forward, he wrapped his arms around his knees before he leaned in towards Carole.

"Promise," he whispered, his eye coming up to reach as high as her nose, not daring to look any higher. Carole placed one hand over his, and the other she used to brush his shaggy hair from his eyes.

"Cross my heart, I promise, Blaine."

Oh how she hoped it was true.

* * *

><p>"Kurt? What're you doin' here?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.<p>

"Really, Dad? I can hardly stand to let you pick out your own clothing, you didn't seriously think that I was going to let you shop for someone else's, did you?"

"Well, I didn't really think that this'd be your kinda place." Burt attempted a half smile at Kurt, who cocked his head slightly as he placed a hand on his hip.

"It isn't my first choice, no, but since lately you haven't really seemed to care about my opinion at all, I figured that no matter what I said you'd end up here anyway, so I'd rather make sure that Blaine doesn't walk out of here looking like he just walked off the cover of _Game and Fish_ weekly."

Burt brought one hand up to rub at his eye, sighing into it heavily.

"I know this is hard, Kurt. This is hard on all of us. And I know how difficult it is for you to be here – and I don't mean here as in the 'you're shopping for used clothes in a thrift store' kind of here – but more like the actual being here, like, all that metaphoric kind of stuff about being here, here."

Kurt gave his father a tight lipped smile and nodded once. His father wasn't always the most articulate man, but Kurt understood what he meant.

The sound of a car door opening behind them caused both Burt and Kurt to look to the source, where Carole emerged from the truck, followed by a very small looking Blaine. The boy stumbled a bit as he stepped down from where he was, and Carole jumped to catch him. Blaine emitted a sound that bordered somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup as her skin made contact with his, but after a few whispered words and a quick shoulder rub the two walked forward to meet the others.

"You okay, Blaine," Burt asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Yes, Mr. Burt," the boy mumbled in reply. Carole smiled at him and rubbed his shoulder again.

"_His eye's tired,"_ she mouthed at Burt, who nodded in reply. "Sorry we took a bit, I figured that these stores aren't always the cleanest, and since Blaine's been pretty lucky in not having an eye infection so far we'd better not jinx it, so we're going to try out his new eye patch." Kurt stooped a little to see the new patch covering Blaine's missing eye. It didn't cover as much of his burns as the other one had, but it would probably rub less. Kurt's breath hitched as looked at the scarring again. The first time he had seen it, he had been in shock. They had known that they wouldn't be buying someone new, but none of them had any idea at the kind of damage their adoptive would have. He hadn't expected this, though. He hadn't thought that they would buy someone so young, scared, and hurt.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably as he noticed Kurt's stare. He looked so…self-conscious.

"Very pirate-chic, I like it. Now that we have your accessory, let's find you some clothes to match it. Come on." Kurt gently took Blaine's hand. The boy stared at their intertwined fingers for a moment before he looked at Burt and Carole.

"Go on," Carole urged, "we're coming right behind you."

Kurt made a disapproving sound.

"Carole," he said, turning towards his step-mother, "I love you, you know that I do, and I'll admit, your wardrobe has improved in the time that we've known each other, but I really think that you and my dad should sit this one out. Don't worry, it'll be fine. We'll have fun, right, Blaine?"

"Yes, Mr. Kurt." Blaine didn't look too sure, but Kurt smiled reassuringly at him. Carole and Burt exchanged glances as they held their own private conversation before Carole sighed and ushered them off. Kurt grinned as he gently pulled Blaine along after him into the store.

"Do you really think that's a smart idea, Burt," Carole asked. Burt raised both of his hands in surrender.

"I really don't know, Carole, but Kurt has to learn to accept Blaine, and Blaine's got to learn to get used to Kurt, so let's hope it works out." The two made their way back to the truck to wait for the boys.

* * *

><p>As Kurt dragged Blaine into the store he could feel the other boy's eye staring a hole into his neck. Kurt turned to smile at him, hoping to get him to stop staring. It didn't work.<p>

"So Blaine," he started, letting go of the other boy, "do you have any style preference?"

"No sir, Mr. Kurt."

Kurt's phone vibrated in his pocket. Smiling, he excused himself from Blaine for a moment as he read the new message.

_**get him coveralls at least three shirts two jeans one sweat pants one sweater shoes if they fit and arent to worn out budget is 50 yes it is possible carole and i are going to get him underwear socks and a new collar be nice love you dad.**_

Kurt rolled his eyes just as his phone buzzed again.

_**stay in budget i mean it Kurt love you**_

Kurt snorted as he pocketed his phone. Looking back to Blaine he saw the boy staring at the far corner of the store at the shoe section positioned between the sporting goods and children's clothes and toys.

"Do you want to start there," he asked, watching as Blaine looked over to Kurt's feet with a wide eye.

"Am I allowed, Mr. Kurt?"

"Of course you are, Blaine. Come on, let's find you some shoes."

Their search for shoes didn't last too long. After finding him a size down from Carole's old shoe they found three pairs that fit, all of them of average wear. None of them were particularly stylish, so Kurt had no problem with asking Blaine which one he liked best and which was the most comfortable. Unable to make a decision, Kurt suggested that they look for their other items first, giving Blaine time to think over which ones he liked.

Blaine was hesitant to leave the section, and every so often when Kurt was busy sifting through the racks of clothes he would look back at it sadly.

"How about this," Kurt asked as he pulled a yellow t-shirt from the rack.

"It's nice, sir." Kurt huffed.

"But do you _like_ it?"

"I like it if my keeper does, sir." Kurt resisted the urge to throw the shirt as Blaine responded with the same sentence he had used for everything else. They had already picked out a pair of coveralls and two pairs of black and dark blue jeans. Those had been easy, since the coveralls were only for working and the jeans had looked comfortable and (surprisingly) good on Blaine, and there had really been no other options to go with. Kurt had pulled a couple of sweaters that were decent enough and was in the process of determining whether or not they would have enough left in the budget to buy them both. Throughout the entire process Kurt had yet to hear an actual opinion from Blaine. The boy had nodded and agreed to everything Kurt had pulled, and Kurt was trying desperately not to show his frustration.

Kurt let in and out a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and leaning against the rack. His dad would be furious if they came back with things that he had obviously picked out, and he was sure that if he tried to explain that Blaine wouldn't make a decision his dad would still think that Kurt had pressured him.

"I'm not the one wearing this, Blaine, you are. If you don't like something you need to let me know, and if you do like it then you need to tell me that too." He looked at Blaine, who was staring very intently at his own feet. "I can't read your mind, Blaine. I don't know what you want. Can you please help me?"

Blaine looked at the shirt for a few moments before looking at the rack. Cautiously raising his hand he looked to Kurt, who nodded in approval. Blaine held out his index finger and barely grazed the shoulder of the shirt. Kurt reached forward and pulled it out, staring at it intently. It was just a simple polo: bright red with a pocket on the left breast. It wasn't anything spectacular at all, but looking at Blaine Kurt could tell just how much effort it had taken him to simply point at something he liked. Blaine could have picked out something with faux fur and Kurt would have bought it for him.

"I like it, Blaine. You have good taste." Kurt added it to their pile as Blaine smiled crookedly and, with a little more confidence, pointed to another polo with white and light blue horizontal stripes across it. As he added it to their pile he tried not to think about how tacky stripes were, and instead focused on the awkward smile Blaine was giving him. Hell, if it meant he could see that smile more often, Kurt would probably wear the stripes himself.

Blaine picked out another two shirts (one with black and white stripes, the other pink and white – Kurt was really, really, trying hard not to think about it) before they returned to the shoes. With encouragement from Kurt, Blaine eventually picked out a pair of black lace up shoes, and Kurt threw in a pair of red slip on's he had seen Blaine eyeing. Kurt knew that it would put their total over the fifty dollar mark, so he decided to call his father before they bought their items.

"I'll be right back, I'm just going to call my dad and tell him that we're done, alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Kurt," Blaine answered distractedly, touching the shoes with delicate fingers. Kurt smiled and walked to the other side of the store as the phone started ringing, not wanting Blaine to hear their conversation if it went badly.

"_Kurt, that you buddy?" _

"Yes Dad, it's me."

"_You kids done? Carole and I are almost on our way back, we'll be another fifteen minutes or so, that okay?" _

"Yes Dad, it's okay. We're not completely finished yet, we still have to pay."

"_Oh, okay. You stayed in the budget, right?"_

"Not exactly…"

"_Kurt…"_

"Don't worry, Dad. We're not too much over. And I figured that it was more important that Blaine be able to pick out his own clothing than it would be to stay within budget. It's not my fault if he has expensive taste."

There was a pause at the other end.

"_Did he really pick out his own stuff?"_

"Shirts and shoes he did, yes. Everything else there wasn't much of a selection on, so he didn't really get the chance."

"_Oh, alright then. As long as it really was him who picked it out and not you trying to make him wear what you want him to."_

"He picked out horizontal stripes and boat shoes, Dad. Trust me, those would definitely not have been my first choices."

"_Alright, I trust you. We'll be on our way back now so we'll see you in a bit. Love you, Kurt."_

"Love you too, Dad."

Kurt hung up, relieved that his father had been okay with them spending more than they had agreed on. Money was such a touchy issue with both his dad and step-mom that it was hard to know sometimes exactly where they stood financially – which was the reason why Kurt had been so taken aback when they had stated their need for an adoptive.

Walking towards Blaine he smiled at the boy, who returned it with his own version before picking up the bundle of clothing that he had laid on the shoe rack. Kurt's smile became more forced, and he mentally reminded himself to wash the clothes himself before he let Blaine wear them.

There wasn't much of a line at the till so Kurt and Blaine were rung through quite quickly. Kurt swatted Blaine away as he tried to bag his own clothing, insisting that as the more practised expert he could do it faster than Blaine could.

When they reached the door, however, the light mood shifted.

"Excuse me, sir," a short, balding man called out, adjusting his glasses and waddling up to the two boys, "I'm going to have to check him."

"Excuse me," Kurt asked, raising his eyebrow, "check him? Check him for what, exactly?" Kurt took a defensive step in front of Blaine, who had gone very pale. The man finally reached them though he was panting slightly.

"We have reason to believe that that…" he looked Blaine up and down, "…adoptive stole from us." Kurt scoffed and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder. He could feel the tension in his muscles.

"I find that highly unlikely, seeing as I was with him the entire time we were here, and I don't think I saw him so much as touch anything in this store."

"Sir, I'm going to have to check him."

"He didn't take anything." Blaine tensed more at the tone in Kurt's voice, but right now Kurt couldn't be concerned with frightening Blaine. The boy hadn't done anything wrong, and Kurt was not going to stand down and let them accuse him of something he didn't do.

The balding man frowned at Kurt before pressing a button on his headset.

"I'm going to need backup at the front register," he said, never taking his eyes off of Kurt.

"This is ridiculous," Kurt mumbled before turning to Blaine, "you did nothing wrong, don't worry, alright?" Blaine licked his lips and swallowed loudly.

"Sir," he whispered timidly, "I didn't take anything."

"I know, Blaine."

"Maybe, sir, they could just check me and we could go. We could go home, sir," Blaine's eye stayed on Kurt's shoulder but his body leaned in, pressing itself to Kurt's back, "I would like to go home, sir."

"I know, we'll go home soon, alright, Blaine?" The boy nodded but pressed closer as two more sales associates approached them.

"Sir, we're going to need to check him before you leave," the balding man repeated, stepping towards Blaine. Kurt took a step forward, causing the man to jump back.

"And what has possessed you to think that Blaine stole anything from you, since I've already made it clear that I was with him the whole time and he didn't touch anything."

"I saw him," one of the other employees, a tall, skinny boy a few years older than Kurt called out, "I saw him when you went to make a phone call. He was movin' around an' lookin' at stuff an' he kept checking his shoulder and looking at you an' he picked stuff up when you weren't there."

"That's absurd," Kurt scoffed, "I was gone a total of two minutes at the most, there is no way that he went to another section and stole in that time."

"I did, sir," Blaine whispered, hand trembling as it gripped Kurt's sleeve. Kurt looked at him in shock before Blaine jumped and shook his head. "No, no sir, I didn't steal, but I looked, sir. I looked when you were gone, and I touched. Only one thing, sir, but I never picked it up and I never stole it, sir."

"Do you really believe him over one of us," the short man asked, bristling.

"Yes, I do. And would you like to know why?" Kurt placed his hands on his hips and gave the three men the best bitch glare he had ever given. "I believe Blaine over any and all of you because he is a member of my family, and as a member of my family he possesses a little thing I like to call integrity. Now, I know you don't see accusing Blaine of stealing as offensive to anyone simply based on the fact that he is an adoptive, but it is. It's offensive to him, and it's offensive to me. It's offensive to him because you're questioning his integrity, and it's offensive to me because it means you're questioning mine as well. If you accuse one member of my family of something based on appearance, gender, sexuality, or social standing, that affects everyone in my family. By accusing Blaine of shoplifting, you're accusing me of shoplifting. I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that I would never shoplift, let alone from a place as germ infested as this one.

"So I'm going to make you a deal," Kurt pointed to the tall boy, "since you were so diligent in keeping an eye on Blaine, you're going to take us over to where he was, and you're going to show us where whatever it was he touched is supposed to be, and if it's not there, fine. You can search him. But I expect that you search me as well, and I expect that you search me just as thoroughly. If, however, it is there," Kurt's lip shot up into what he hoped was an intimidating, snarling grin, "then I expect a full apology to both of us, and I demand to speak to whoever is in charge." Turning around, Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and started walking, pausing to turn over his shoulder and gesture for the others to come as well.

"Sir, please, I'm sorry" Blaine whimpered as they followed the tall boy.

"You didn't steal it, did you," Kurt asked, though the questioning tone was void from his voice.

"No sir, Mr. Kurt."

"Then you have nothing to be sorry about."

They passed through the sporting goods, and into the shoes. Kurt was prepared to stop when the boy kept on moving farther. Glancing at Blaine, Kurt watched the boy's head drop as his cheek flushed in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sir," he whispered again as they stopped in front of children's toys.

Kurt's heart jumped as it finally clicked. Blaine hadn't been excited about shoes. Well, he had been, but it hadn't been his first priority. When they had entered the store, Blaine had seen the toys. He had thought that Kurt was taking him to look at toys, and they had gone to shoes. The entire time they had been looking for other things, Blaine's eye kept looking back at the children's department, just wanting to look at the toys, not at the shoes.

Kurt hadn't even thought about letting him look there.

The salesman looked at the piles of stuffed animals and action figures before biting his lip and sighing. He bent down and picked up the dirtiest toy that Kurt had ever seen. It looked like it might have once been something related to a rabbit, but he couldn't quite be sure. Its long fur was grey and matted, and the pink plaid fabric that lined its ears was stained with... coffee? Juice? Again, it was difficult to be sure. It had one glass eye that appeared to be chipped, and the other had been replaced by a large brown button. Its limbs were stumpy, its ears drooped far too low, the pink ribbon around its neck was tattered and frayed, and it was, by far, the ugliest thing that Kurt had seen in the shop, but when he looked at Blaine he saw the boy's eye sparkle in wonder. When just a moment before Blaine had been nervous and timid, he now looked just like a regular kid excited about his birthday, or Christmas. This was what Blaine should look like all the time, not just sporadic moments in thrift stores.

"Well," Kurt said, triumphantly, "I guess he didn't take it now, did he?" The three men didn't answer as Kurt walked over to the tall boy and took the rabbit from his hands. "Though I must admit, I'm a little impressed that you thought Blaine had the skill to conceal something this large under that flimsy jersey. A deal's a deal, though. I'd like to talk to your supervisor, now."

"I am the supervisor," the bald man huffed, face red in frustration.

"Hm, alright then. I guess I'd like to talk to your manager."

"He's not in right now." Kurt sighed and turned to the supervisor, bitch face in place again.

"Then get me a phone. Now."

* * *

><p>Burt and Carole had been sitting in the truck outside of the thrift store for half an hour.<p>

"Is Kurt still not answering his phone," Carole asked, trying not to worry herself.

"No, Kurt probably just found more things for Blaine to try on or something. They'll be here soon." He checked his watch again. Blaine had had a long day already, and Burt hoped that Kurt wasn't making it feel longer for him.

"Oh, Burt, there they are," Carole exclaimed as she saw the boys exiting the store. Burt sighed in relief as both appeared to be in one piece.

"'Bout time," he muttered, starting the car. Kurt smiled at them and waved from beneath an armful of bags.

"How much over do you think he went?"

"I don't even want to ask."

Carole got out of the truck and moved the seat so both Blaine and Kurt could sit in the back. Burt offered to throw their items in the truck bed to give them more room on the ride home, but Kurt declined.

"It's already going to be crowded enough with three of us back here, what's a few more bags?"

"Wait, three," Burt asked, looking sceptically at his son. Kurt grinned and nudged Blaine with his shoulder.

"Want to show them your new friend?"

Blaine's crooked grin spread across his face and his eye sparkled again as he shifted the bags he was carrying so that the scruffy headed rabbit could peek out.

"Oh, Blaine, he's adorable," Carole cooed as Blaine smiled down at the rabbit bashfully. Burt raised his eyebrow and looked at Kurt, who shrugged.

"It's not like it put us over budget or anything," he said, fixing his hair.

"Right, you were already over, weren't you?"

"No, actually," he smiled triumphantly, "I guess they were having a sale today, everything fifty percent off. Lucky for us, huh?" He nudged Blaine and gave him a small wink, causing Blaine to giggle quietly and nod enthusiastically before returning his eye to the bunny. Burt looked at Kurt quizzically, but the younger boy simply shook his head.

"_I'll tell you later,"_ he mouthed. "Well, I don't know about any of you, but I'm definitely ready to go home."

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><p><strong>DAT'S IT! For now.. :D <strong>

**Miss Olivia Cellophane: I actually had no intention of bringing Kurt in on this, but after your review I thought, yeah, that makes sense, so thanks!**

**I was actually making a reference back to the chapter where Blaine got his name and I was being a douche, saying that I debated giving him some other name and having Kurt come home with his bf Blaine for some major plot twist. That didn't happen, obviously, but I still think it would have been hilarious. The Blaine in this story isn't supposed to be an alternate version of the show's Blaine, but due to the different circumstances his character is different, which I guess makes him an alternate version of the same character. He's not supposed to be an OC, but I can understand completely if it comes off that way. I hope to get Blaine to be more Blaine soon, but, as we all know, I do nothing quickly.**

**Nurse Kate: Thank you! I'm going to try to get him a little more one-on-one time with each, hopefully that'll encourage him to come out of his sad shell a little more. And yes, as long as they can save up the cash he'll be getting an eye, yay!**

**mushs-grl13: Thank you, hopefully the prosthetic will help get you some happies, but for now I will give you bunny cuddles!**

**Ranandomchild: Thank you! I don't want to make the assumption that you are randomchild, but I will anyway, so hi, you sneaky thing! You can't trick me that easily. ;)**

**Izzy - Thanks! I'm glad the doctor part wasn't too tedious for you, as explanations can sometimes be. Yessums, they'd better be good to him or I'd have to smack some sense into them. Blaine's too cute to be mean to.**

**LL: iiiiiiiilu. You can have some rabbit cuddles too!**

**Kate: Thank you! I'm glad the internal Blaine stuff it going okay, it's a hard mindset to get into. I really thought it'd only been a week since I updated, but apparently I lied to myself.**

**anabonsh: Thanks! Again, very glad that part came through okay. I'm not always sure how much explanation is too much, so if I go over feel free to let me know :D!**

**One-Eyed Lady: With how much stuff you sent me you could go through and delete all of your previous reviews and I'd still be happy! But regardless, what a beautiful review, so thank you! I know a lot of people don't like Finn on the show, but I think his character has more potential than they let on. With Burt, too, I'm so happy that's coming across well. Blaine needs someone stable, and Burt's always been pretty grounded to me. Yeah, it wasn't much that I put in regarding actual eye stuff, but I didn't want to go all info-overload, but I will get to more!  
>Thanks again for your review and time! You're awesome!<strong>

**Randomchild: Ah, you stole back your heart, I see. Very well, I guess that I must now duel you for it. If I win I get to love you back.**

**KlainePotter: Hi again! Thank you! I feel bad for Blaine too, but I gave him a friend, so I hope that'll make us feel less sad for him. And if not, rabbit cuddles all around!**

**Again, thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, and alerting. You guys make me happy. :D**


	14. Chapter 14

**Wow, guys. You. Are. AWESOME. Over 100 reviews? I think this calls for a pizza party. Or pie. Virtual pie for all! Seriously, thank you. This is actually really, really cool.**  
><strong>Thanks!<strong>

* * *

><p>"Peekaboo!"<p>

Blaine giggled as Kurt pushed down the plastic shopping bags to reveal the rabbit's face. Kurt grinned at him before pulling the edge of the bag over the toy again.

"Peekaboo!"

Burt fought hard not to watch the two boys in the rear view mirror and instead focus all of his attention on the road ahead. The game had started shortly after they had left the parking lot. Blaine had been struggling to put on his seatbelt with the load of bags and bunny on his lap, so Kurt had volunteered to hold them. Passing them back, Kurt lost sight of the toy.

"Where'd your rabbit go," he'd asked, craning his neck to see if it had fallen on the floor of the truck. Blaine leaned forward with Kurt, mirroring his body. Kurt looked at Blaine's eye but the boy immediately broke contact. "Did you drop it?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Where'd it go?"

Blaine leaned back slightly, giving Kurt a clear view of the bags. Using his index finger, the boy gently pulled the edge of one down, revealing the rabbit's mangled face.

"Oh, there it is!"

Whether it was the enthusiasm in Kurt's voice, the sudden loudness, or the delighted expression on Kurt's face, none of them knew, but Blaine had burst into a fit of quiet raspy giggles. Looking mischievously between Kurt and the rabbit, Blaine hesitantly grabbed the edge of the plastic bag before pulling it up and over his toy slowly. He kept his eye on Kurt, mouth open and eye wide in excited anticipation as he pulled the edge down again.

"Peekaboo," Kurt exclaimed, unable to contain his smile as Blaine bounced happily in his seat, giggling uncontrollably.

And thus began their game.

"Peekaboo!"

Burt chanced a look at his wife. She had turned to watch the boys; one hand clasped over her mouth, her fingers grazing her cheek lightly while the other rested on the back of her seat. She turned her face to look back at him, eyes tearing as a smile broke through from behind her hand.

Burt bit his own lip as he turned back to the road, reveling in the sound of Blaine's joy. If Carole or Kurt noticed as he drove past their street, neither said. Nor did they say anything as he circled the block three times before reluctantly pulling into the driveway.

Blaine's laughter had steadied, but his breathing was still harsh. They piled out of the truck again, but as Blaine made the last step down he stumbled, falling into Carole for the second time that day.

"I've got you," she whispered when he'd tensed in her arms. She brushed his hair out of his eye before offering him a small smile, which he returned hesitantly. "It's been a long day, huh, sweetie. It's okay, we'll just get you cleaned up, then we'll have something to eat, and then we're all done. How does that sound?"

"It sounds very good, Mrs. Carole, thank you."

Placing both her hands on his shoulders she gently guided him into the house where Finn was waiting sadly.

"I can't believe you all went out without me," Finn pouted as Carole closed the door.

"Finn, you knew where we were going."

"Yeah, but I didn't know Kurt was gonna go too," he mumbled, kicking his socked foot into the carpet.

"You can come next time, okay, Finn," Kurt said as he re-entered the room, bending over to pick up the bags he had left on the floor, "Now Blaine, would you like to show everyone what you bought?"

Carole began to object, but beside her Blaine immediately perked up.

"Yes, Mr. Kurt, I would like that, sir," he exclaimed with giddy excitement, going to Kurt to collect his bags. Kurt called out for his dad to join them and he, Carole, and Finn moved into the living room and sat down on the couch.

"Blaine, are you alright?"

The boy had made it as far as the edge of the carpet before he had flopped himself down onto the hard flooring. He was in the middle of sifting through the bags when Carole spoke, and he smiled up at her from his place on the floor.

"Yes, Mrs. Carole, thank you. Are you alright, Ma'am?" Carole managed a small smile back at him.

"I'm fine, thank you, Blaine. I just wanted to know why you're sitting so far away from everyone else."

Blaine bit his lip and furrowed his brow as he stared intently at the spot in front of the couch.

"I'm not allowed on the carpet, Mrs. Carole," he said as Burt entered the room. The older man scoffed before walking over to Blaine, bending down to pick up the boy's bags. Blaine looked heartbroken as he watched Burt take his new clothes away with him, but the man turned around quickly and jerked his head in the direction of the couch.

"C'mon, kid, you're allowed anywhere in this house that you wanna go, and that includes on carpets and couches and stuff, so come sit with the family, alright, Blaine?"

The boy wasn`t moving. Instead, he stared at the bags of clothes Burt was resting on the floor in front of the couch.

"Blaine," Finn called, leaning forward towards the boy. Blaine's bottom lip quivered slightly and he swallowed loudly, chin jutting out as he did so, though his eyes never left the clothes. They tried calling his name again, though it was clear after the second attempt that the boy wasn't listening to a word that any of them said.

Finn slid off of the couch and leaned in so that he was eye level with Blaine. Tracing the path with his own eyes he settled on the bag of clothes.

"Oh," he exclaimed proudly as he put it together. Finn threw his arm behind the pile of bags and scooped them forward towards Blaine. The adoptive immediately broke from his trance and looked at Finn apprehensively.

"I-I can have them back, sir?"

" 'Course you can, we weren't taking them away from you or anything, we just thought it might be more comfy over there on the couch. But if you don't wanna go there we can all come here, okay?" He motioned behind him for the others to follow. Blaine started to protest but the others were already coming over to sit on the edge of the carpet with Blaine. Blaine looked around at the family that had gathered together on the floor and gave them a tentative smile.

Kurt began pulling out clothes and passing them to Blaine to hold up. Most of the talking was left to Kurt, though Blaine was always eager to answer when he was asked a question directly.

"Ooh, you picked this one out, Blaine?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole, and I picked out that one, too."

"Cool shoes, Blaine!"

"Thank you, Mr. Finn, I like those because I don't have to tie them, but I can still practice my knots."

His answers were quiet and timid, but he was speaking more freely than he had before. Burt chuckled along to his remarks and stared at his own son in admiration. He still didn't know what had happened in the store, but there had been an immediate shift in Blaine's behaviour afterwards. His voice wasn't sounding as guarded as it did that morning – he wasn't speaking in calculated sentences as much. And too, his eye kept progressively getting higher. He wasn't anywhere close to looking them in the eyes voluntarily, but his eye level had remained consistently mid-chest on all of them. Burt knew that nothing with Blaine would ever be easy, but he silently celebrated the small victories they had had today.

When they had finished showing the clothes Carole gathered them up quickly, stating that they needed to be washed immediately before Blaine was to wear them. Blaine, who had been in the middle of showing his bunny to Finn, jumped up himself to take the clothes from Carole.

"I can wash my laundry, Mrs. Carole."

"I know you can, sweetheart, but right now you need to go get yourself cleaned up."

"Yes, Mrs. Carole," he replied, still looking hesitant about the clothing.

"I want to wash your rabbit too, Blaine. It's pretty dirty, and the last thing you need is to be getting an eye infection from your toy. Can I have it please, Blaine?"

Blaine bit his lip and frowned down at the rabbit. His hands clenched tightly around it, and his arms jerked as though he was resisting pulling it close to his body.

"Yes, Mrs. Carole," he mumbled sadly, passing the rabbit off to her with hesitant arms.

"Don't worry, honey, you'll have it back by dinner, okay? And while you're both getting clean you can think of names, how about that?" Carole reached over to squeeze Blaine's shoulder. He smiled softly at her stomach before directing his eye to the toy. He still seemed hesitant to let the rabbit and clothes go, but she hoped that once Blaine was given his things back he'd understand that they wouldn't be taking them from him. "You remember where to go, right, Blaine?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

"Good. Just grab a towel from the closet outside of the bathroom and go get clean, okay? I don't know if any of your clothes will be clean by the time you're done, but we'll find something for you until then."

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

Blaine scampered off down the hall and a moment later they heard the closet door open.

"Here, I'll go start the laundry so you can wash that thing," Kurt frowned at the bunny as he took the clothes from Carole. Chuckling, Burt moved to take the stuffed animal from her arms.

"And I'll take care of this if you start dinner," he said. The two walked across the room and into the kitchen.

"Do you even know how to wash a stuffed animal?"

"Nope, but I have a feeling if I start doing it wrong you'll let me know pretty fast."

Carole instructed Burt on how to start as she pulled out the leftover lasagna from the fridge and placed it in the oven. Returning to the fridge she pulled out the ingredients to make a salad. She laughed quietly to herself as she looked over to see Burt elbow deep in suds, using an old rag to gently scrub at the bunny's coarse fur.

"Just make sure you don't put it all the way in the water or Blaine won't be able to get it back until September."

Burt grunted in reply, pulling one hand out of the suds to flick some at Carole. Giggling, she swatted his arm before continuing to make dinner. Burt smiled at her back for a moment

"There, whadya think?"

Carole leaned over Burt to see the finished product. The rabbit had turned a few shades lighter in color, and it was just as mangy as before, but Carole wrapped both of her arms around her husband and kissed his cheek.

"It's perfect," she whispered in his ear, "now go dry it off."

"Shouldn't I just wait to throw it in the dryer with his other stuff?"

"Oh Burt, you'll ruin it!" Burt laughed and held the rabbit up in Carole's face.

"Ruin _this_?" He quickly sidestepped as Carole swatted at him again.

"Go," she demanded, slapping his back lightly. She turned back to the salad and continued preparing the meal. Just as she pulled bowls to set on the table Burt came back in with the still wet rabbit clutched in hand.

"Didn't you tell Blaine to go have a bath?"

Carole set down the bowls and frowned at her husband.

"Yes, why, what's he doing?"

"I don't know, but he's not in the bathroom." The two left the kitchen together and walked down the hall to the empty bathroom.

"Maybe he's just downstairs," Burt said, scratching his arm.

"No, there's just a shower down there, he can't use it because of the pressure on his face."

They checked anyway, and Carole ran upstairs again to ask the boys if they'd seen him.

"Blaine," Burt called, but there was no answer. Carole came down the stairs again looking worried.

"The boys haven't seen him, Burt."

"Maybe he left something in the car, I'll go check." Burt didn't think that Blaine would go out on his own, but the house wasn't that big, and there weren't many other places that he could be.

'_Maybe he ran away.'_

Burt shook the thought away as quickly as it had come. Blaine wasn't a puppy. If he had run away there would be nowhere for him to even go. He didn't know the area, and so far he seemed to almost like them. It wouldn't make sense for him to run.

Burt went all the way out to the truck, going so far as to open the doors and check the truck bed, but there was no Blaine.

Burt took a long, deep breath, hoping that Carole had found him inside. Making his way back to the house he stopped in his track. Around the side of the house there was a trail of water leaking down the pavement. Burt hurried towards it, and as he rounded the corner he saw Blaine: naked and shivering and drenched to the bone. He was struggling to hold up the garden hose and scrub at his hair at the same time, his body was shaking too much to stand straight. He was bent at the torso, trying to keep what little body heat he had in his body.

"What are you doing," Burt called out, almost running towards Blaine. The boy jumped, hose slipping from his grip. He fumbled with it, trying to regain his grip before he fell heavily to his knees, keeping the hose pointed at his lap so that it wouldn't spray Burt.

"I'm sorry, sir, did I take too long, Mr. Burt?"

Burt ran over to turn off the hose, pulling it from Blaine's grip.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he yelled. As soon as he said it he wished he could take it back. Blaine threw himself forward at Burt's feet.

"Please sir, I'm sorry," he whimpered into Burt's shoes. Burt moved to step back from Blaine, causing the boy to flinch back and whimper again, preparing himself for a kick from the older man.

Burt grabbed the towel that Blaine had left folded on the deck and wrapped it around the trembling boy.

"Don't apologize, Blaine, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, but just… what are you doing out here?"

"I thought Mrs. Carole told me to wash myself, I thought it was okay, sir." Burt rubbed the towel over his body as the boy's shivering became more intense.

"C'mon, kid, let's get you warm." Burt almost had to drag Blaine off of the pavement, half carrying his body into the house. He made sure that the towel was wrapped snugly around his waist before they started through the door.

"Sir, I can't go inside, I can't, sir," he protested, planting his feet and pushing himself against Burt.

"Why not?"

"I'm not dry, Mr. Burt. I'll wet the floor, sir," he jumped away from Burt suddenly, "I've made you wet, sir. I'm sorry, Mr. Burt."

Burt grunted as Blaine collapsed to the ground again. This time he did have to drag the adoptive through the door, more concerned about stopping Blaine from catching a cold in the chilly dusk air than coaxing him inside gently.

"Carole, can you start the bath, please," he yelled out over a mumbling Blaine. Burt struggled to pull Blaine into an upright position and haul him down the hall to the bathroom. The boy was still apologizing profusely as they pushed past Carole. Burt somehow managed to maneuver Blaine into the warm soapy water, towel and all. Burt began to pull away but Blaine stopped him. The boy had twisted his body to grip the edge of the tub. He hadn't touched Burt, but he could tell that Blaine had wanted to reach for him instead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring at Burt's knee with a sad eye. Burt ran his hand through Blaine's tangled, cold hair.

"Why did you think we wouldn't let you take a bath inside," he asked quietly. Blaine shook his head.

"I've never been allowed, sir. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Burt continued to stroke Blaine's hair softly while Carole turned off the water. They stayed silent for a few minutes until Blaine's shivers subsided. He kept his hand on the boy's head as Carole passed him soap and shampoo. When Blaine started to lather the shampoo into his hair Burt had to stop him. Blaine couldn't wash his own hair without having the shampoo run onto his face.

"Don't want it getting in your eye," Burt had said as Blaine began to protest. Partway through the routine Burt noticed that Carole had left and come back with Blaine's rabbit. Blaine turned his head to watch Carole plug in the hairdryer and start drying the floppy thing. He wasn't smiling, but his eye shone with longing for his toy.

They finished shortly after and Burt pulled out the soft robe Carole had set out for Blaine and wrapped it around the no longer shaking boy.

"Here, I'll trade you." Carole passed Burt the hairdryer and pulled Blaine to stand in front of the mirror. "Is it okay if I cut your hair, Blaine?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

"And here, if you turn this way you can even watch your bunny."

Blaine's head perked up a little when Burt held it out to him.

"You wanna help me dry it," he asked. Blaine nodded and took it. The three of them stood together for half an hour until Carole had finished cutting Blaine's hair.

"There you go, want to see, Blaine?"

Blaine turned away from the rabbit to face the mirror. He inhaled sharply when he saw his short hair. Reaching up he touched his hair lightly, tousling it a little between his fingers.

"You like it?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

Burt ruffled his hair before leading the three of them out to the kitchen where Kurt and Finn were already at the table waiting.

"Looking good, man!" Finn ran over to rub Blaine's hair while Kurt started spooning salad into bowls. The boys had laid out five places at the table, but Burt was certain that Blaine would end up being on the floor.

"Want to try sitting here Blaine," he asked, pulling out a chair. The boy hugged the rabbit close to his body and sunk to his knees, head low. "Okay, you can eat there." Burt moved his dish in front of him before returning to his own spot at the table.

The dinner conversation was kept fairly light. Finn updated the family about his relationship woes with Rachel, Kurt gushed about a jacket he had found online, and Carole and Burt offered side comments when necessary. Blaine had been very quiet since he had been brought back inside, and none of them seemed to know how to get him to talk. It had been a silent understanding that they should leave him alone for the time being, hoping that he was just tired. When dinner was finished, Carole immediately sent Blaine downstairs, not wanting him to feel as though he had to help clean up. She had watched him struggling to stay awake long enough to finish eating while clutching the rabbit in his arm throughout the entire meal, and it was clear that the boy just wanted to sleep.

She followed him downstairs, grabbing her purse from beside the door as she went. Halfway down the stairs Blaine stumbled and slid down the remaining few steps. Carole tried to help him up but the boy shrugged her off forcefully, visibly shaken and embarrassed by his fall. She could see both of his eyes beginning to water but she let it go. She'd seen Finn pull out the same face when he was younger. He wasn't in pain, he was just tired.

"Go brush your teeth and I'll be back with your clothes." She gestured to his washroom before leaving the room to grab his laundry. Coming back again Carole saw that the bathroom was empty, so she instead knocked on the open doorframe.

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

She pushed the already half-open door further so she could squeeze herself and her armload of clothes into the room. She passed him a pair of sweatpants and Finn's jersey, waiting for him to start putting them on so that she could go through her purse.

When he was done changing Carole silently started applying the ointment Dr. Edwards had given Blaine for his face. After that, she pulled out a long black box and opened it, pulling out its contents and placing them on the small table beside Blaine's bed. Pulling the covers down, she gestured for the boy to lie down before she picked it up again.

"You don't have to wear this now, Blaine, but we got you a new collar." She held it out to him and he took it slowly. "We tried to find one that was soft so it wouldn't rub your neck, but this is the best one they had."

The collar itself was black leather and padded with some kind of soft short faux fur. As plain as it was, it had been expensive. They had both hoped that as far as collars went, Blaine would like it.

She was rewarded with a small smile from the boy, who clutched the collar with one hand and snuggled his face into the toy that was being held in the other.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carole," he said into the rabbit. She smiled back, taking the collar and setting it on the table again.

"We'll come to get you in the morning around eight, so don't worry about what time you have to be up." She patted his shoulder before standing to leave. "Oh, did you think of a name yet for your rabbit, Blaine?"

The boy stared at the toy long and hard before he nodded.

"Carrot," he said, looking to Carole for approval.

"Carrot, I like it, Blaine. Is Carrot a boy or a girl rabbit?" Blaine shrugged. "Alright, just Carrot, then. It's a nice name, Blaine. Sweet dreams." Leaning over, Carole kissed Blaine's forehead and ran her fingers through his hair one last time before walking out the door, turning off the light as she went.

Blaine watched her silhouette go, gripping Carrot tightly as he did so. He liked Mrs. Carole. He liked the whole family. They were nice, and Blaine liked how they made him feel. Nuzzling his face further into the bunny he shimmied himself deeper into the pile of blankets. The day hadn't started too well for him, but it had gotten better. They had all seemed to like him. But then he'd ruined it again. He had been bad. That was twice already. Tomorrow he would have his real test. If Mr. Burt didn't like how he worked tomorrow he would be back to the Home, and he didn't want that.

But they were patient and gentle with him. Maybe he would be given more than one chance at work. Maybe they would be nice enough to let him try to do better. Blaine was going to do the best he could, but he didn't know whether or not it would be good enough.

Blaine pushed his head forward to kiss Carrot's head the same way Mrs. Carole had kissed his. It had felt so nice to be touched gently, and in turn it felt nice to pass those gentle touches on to something else, even though it wasn't a real person.

He smiled to himself as he remembered the car ride home from the store. Blaine still wasn't entirely sure what the point of their whole game had been, but for some unknown reason hiding the rabbit had made Mr. Kurt laugh. Blaine had made him laugh. It still baffled him that something as simple as hiding a toy could make Kurt smile the way he did, but it had worked, so Blaine had kept going. He had made Mr. Kurt happy, so maybe, if he stayed good, Mr. Kurt would help convince the family to keep him if he wasn't as good at working as he used to be.

Blaine closed his eye and began to relax into Carrot. He was glad that Mrs. Carole had liked the name, and he had been equally as glad when she hadn't asked him for the reason why he'd chosen that as a name. Blaine had felt rather clever when he'd come up with it, and had been worried that, if asked, he would tell. Of course he could have said that the only reason he picked the name was because everyone knows that rabbits eat carrots, but Blaine was proud of the other reason, the one he didn't want to share.

Carrot was an obvious name for a rabbit. But it also didn't hurt that to Blaine, the word, 'carrot' sounded an awful lot like the name, 'Kurt'.

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><p><strong>1trulove: Thank you! Blaine does try; all he wants is to be loved. Poor guy.<strong>

**blainescrys: ooo thank you! As I have said many, many times, Kurt is terrifying, so I'm glad you liked him!**

**Nurse Kate: I do like Nice Kurt - and Mean Kurt, but only if Mean Kurt is being Mean Kurt for Nice Kurt reasons.**

**Rory46: My fic loves you. It may not be able to give you super perfect chapters, but it gives you its eternal love. I hope that's an okay trade off.**

**platowasabore: Why thank you! I actually wasn't a fan of that one when I wrote it, but it got a pretty good response so I guess I should go with it!**

**LL: Thank you, you wonderful perfect human being!**

**One-Eyed Lady: Oh goodness, yes. I almost gave him a clown, but figured that a mangled rabbit would be more Blaine-friendly than a super creepy clown. I'm so glad you liked it. Again, I hadn't been sure about that one, but hey, if people enjoy it! **  
><strong>Whenever I read anything I'm for the most part thinking of things that I would have done differently, so saying that you wouldn't change it...ugh, you have no idea how honored I feel to have you say that. Like, wow. Thank you so much.<strong>

**randomchild: Don't die, please! If you do I'll have to send Blaine in for some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and I don't know if you'd want that...**  
><strong>Haha, I got two reviews from you (I think, unless I'm losing it which I very well could be) one from randomchild and another from ranandomchild. It seriously confused me to no end so I figured I'd reply to both, but now we're both confused, and that ain't no good!<strong>

**mushs-grl13: I think we should all have a giant cuddle-puddle to just get all our feels out. We'll bring our bunnies and Blaines' and just super cuddle hug the night away!**

**Kate: I'm glad it makes you happy! I pretty much modeled those texts after the type my mom always sends me. Woman can't text worth shiz. **

**KlainePotter: Aww, I know! Everyone needs stuffed animal friends! Thank you!**

**Miss Olivia Cellophane: Thank you, and no problem! And again, thank you for suggesting Kurt. Seriously did not cross my mind at all before you said it, and it made so much more sense your way. I'm such a boob.**

**Thanks everyone for reading, reviewing, and alerting! Y'all are great, beautiful, sexy people! :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Umm…hey there, amazing people. D'you know how many reviews I got last time? Like, a lot. And they were all the most beautiful reviews of my life. Like, wow. The effort you guys put into those is just amazing. You're all the best.**

**This chapter is long as shit because I love you. And because Blaine spent a freakin' long ass time in the bathroom (yeah, spoiler alert: there's a really long Blaine-in-the-bathroom scene). And because I love you.**

**I really wish that I could get back to every reviewer, but there's like, 38(I think?) of you. And as much as I love you, I think peeps might be angry if I spent thousands of words replying. So Imma PM's my friends with PMable accounts (I haven't done that yet, I'm so sorry D: ), and my Guests/Anons, I'm gonna answer a few of the big questions below.**

**Srsly, you all are remarkably amazing people. Let's be best friends forever, plz-n-thx.**

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><p>Burt stood in shock and stared at Blaine. He took several deep, steadying breaths and counted.<p>

"_1...2…3…4…5" _

He tried to ignore the sound of Blaine's shaky breathing beneath him as he kept going.

"_6…7…8 – " _

"Mr. Burt, sir?"

"Go wait in the car, Blaine."

"Sir, please – "

"Just…just go to the car, please. I just – just let me fix this, and then I'll take you home."

Burt didn't look up, but he could feel Blaine's eye on him; staring a hole through the top of his head and stabbing at his brain, increasing the intensity of the migraine he could feel coming on. Blaine's breathing became louder, or maybe it was that Burt couldn't focus on anything else, but after what seemed like forever, and yet no time at all, the boy left.

Burt sighed loudly and heavily before mentally preparing himself for the mess that lay before him.

* * *

><p>Burt Hummel was not having a good day.<p>

With all the stress of the previous few days hanging over him, Burt had forgotten to set his alarm. He woke with a start at the sound of a car alarm going off somewhere down the street. Groaning, he turned over to look at the clock.

9:43.

_Shit._

Burt hadn't slept in this late since, well, he couldn't even remember when, but it figured that today would be the day.

After taking a fast shower, Burt moved quickly to the kitchen and hastily bagged a lunch, grabbing an apple on his way out the door. He cursed in frustration as he fumbled with his seatbelt, and only managed a half wave to Carole as he passed her walking home from her trip to the grocers. It wasn't until he was less than two minutes from the garage when he remembered.

_Blaine._

Loudly cursing, Burt pulled the car to the side of the road before pulling his cellphone from his pocket.

"_Forget something?"_

Burt sighed, running his hand over his face.

"Alarm didn't go off," he said simply, "can you get Blaine up for me? I'm on my way back now."

He heard Carole laughing quietly on her end as she agreed, and Burt took a second to breathe before turning the truck around.

Ten minutes later he pulled up in the driveway, and before he could even turn off the car Blaine was out the door, paper bagged lunch in hand and jogging quickly to the car. Burt leaned over to open the door for him, and the boy hopped in place a few times before he was able to boost himself into the truck. Burt had to put up his arm to prevent Blaine from immediately going to the back seat, and at a curious look from Blaine he pointed to the seat beside himself.

"You're up here today, bud. Now y'gotta sit down, 'cause we're already runnin' late."

Blaine sat quickly and pulled his seatbelt across his chest. He shot a small smile at Burt, who clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Y'ready for your first day at work?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine responded, a light quiver to his voice. Glancing sideways Burt could see him practically vibrating in his seat. Whether it was nerves or excitement, he couldn't tell. Burt could feel a headache setting in as he began to stress over Blaine, and the overwhelming scent of peanut butter wasn't helping much.

"Did you brush your teeth today, Blaine?"

"No, sir." Burt looked over to see Blaine duck his chin to his chest, breathing softly into his shoulder as if he were trying to smell his own breath. The older man chuckled lightly as he reached forward into the truck's cup holder, pulling out a pack of gum.

"Here," he said as he popped a piece out, "chew this, but don't swallow it."

Blaine took the gum cautiously and placed it on his tongue before pulling it back into his mouth. There was a quiet crackling sound as Blaine broke through the hard shell, followed by the fresh scent of mint and the loud wet sounds of chewing.

"Mouth closed, please," Burt chided, forcing himself to watch the road and not Blaine. With his luck so far he didn't want to chance an accident. Blaine had hummed a soft reply and continued chewing.

When they finally reached the shop Burt immediately went to check the answering machine. Eight missed calls.

"Blaine," he called out. A moment later the boy poked his head into the doorway of Burt's office, ready for instructions. "We're running a little behind schedule already, bud, so I'm not really gonna get to show you how to do as much as I wanted to, but I'm gonna get you to start with inventory. Just gimme a sec and I'll print out the sheet for you."

"Yes, sir," Blaine answered, craning his neck to watch Burt as he signed onto the computer.

"You can come in if you want, Blaine," he said, looking over his shoulder at the wide eyed boy.

"Thank you, Mr. Burt." Blaine practically leaped forward, coming to a halt less than half a step away from Burt's back. It took Burt by surprise, the sudden closeness of the boy, but he resisted asking Blaine to back off slightly, trying to understand that Blaine was just wanting to learn how to work.

"So this thing I just printed here is our inventory levels sheet. It's really important, 'cause it tells us how much stuff we have, and after you're done it'll show us how much stuff we're missing. Now, you see these numbers here? These numbers are gonna match up with barcodes for the parts that we sell. You only really need to look at the last four numbers here, and those'll match up with the last four on the barcode, okay?" Burt looked up at Blaine who, for the most part, appeared to be following along. "'Aight, so once you've found the numbers that match you make a little tally mark in this box here. And you're gonna do this for everything in the shop with a barcode, sound good?"

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

It was a little uncomfortable trying to explain everything to Blaine while the boy was breathing heavily in his ear, but Burt had tried to ignore how tense it was making him. He led Blaine out to the side wall where most of their items were.

"I want you to start here, and after you're done that come get me and we'll see how you did. Any questions you come find me. Right now I'm gonna make a few calls but I'll come check on you in a bit. And after this I'll give you a tour. Sorry I can't right now, but, like I said, we're a little behind."

Burt smiled at Blaine and watched as he started his task, slowly trying to match the numbers with the sheet. Burt stepped away to phone the people who had left messages, trying to keep an eye on Blaine at the same time.

The first three calls Burt had made had gone quite well, just customers wanting to schedule a time to bring their cars in for routine oil changes and funny noises. The third to fifth caller had been one person, a middle aged sounding woman whose car had broken down on her way to work. She had called Burt looking for a tow, and had been baffled by the fact that there was no one there to answer her call. The woman proceeded to spend the next twenty five minutes of Burt's time ranting about poor customer service and how she would never call on 'Hummel Tires and Lube' again. When she finally hung up on Burt mid-sentence, the man was relieved. The small headache had since grown into a much larger problem, and had he stayed on the phone much longer he knew that he would have ended up being the one to hang up on her.

The last three calls weren't as bad, though on each he did receive comments on his delayed response to their messages. It could have been worse, but it also could have been better.

Looking to the clock, Burt was surprised to see that it was almost twelve thirty. He himself wasn't too hungry, but he figured that both he and Blaine could stand to take a break. He stood from his desk and stretched, wincing as his back popped loudly. Making his way to the wall he had left Blaine at he found the boy less than half the stretch across, eye squinting as he tried to compare numbers.

"Hey, buddy, how's it goin' over there?" Burt approached the boy, who bowed his head and stopped working.

"I can't find the numbers, sir," he mumbled into his clothes.

"Whadya mean?"

"I can't find all of the numbers on here, sir. I added a few, but I can't find the others."

"Which ones couldn't you find?"

"I don't know, sir." The boy bit his lip, voice quiet as a whisper. Burt gently took the clipboard from him and looked at it carefully. Burt had been in charge of his own inventory since the shop opened, and after years of practice it would take up to an hour to complete. Blaine had been alone for nearly an hour and a half, and had so far only made six tallies on the sheet. Looking at it more closely Burt sighed and handed it back to Blaine.

"This is my fault, kid, I shoulda explained it a little better. On this sheet here there's two sets of numbers, that first one right there's the SKU, and the second one's the UPC. You're lookin' for the UPC, not the SKU. I'm sorry, buddy, I made a mistake." Burt rubbed Blaine' shoulder as the boy visibly drooped.

"I should have looked at both, sir. I'm sorry I wasted time."

"S'okay, Blaine, but how about we take a quick lunch break and we'll see about trying something different after, okay?"

Blaine didn't seem too happy with the idea, instead focusing his attention back on the wall.

"May I try again, sir," he asked Burt's shoes timidly, "I'll do better this time sir, I swear I will."

Carole would kill him if she found out he hadn't let Blaine take a break, but the boy seemed determined to figure out how to do the one simple task, so he agreed.

"But I'll walk you through it this time, alright, kid?"

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

Burt carefully explained again what they were doing and why they were doing it, taking care to add in extra details that might help Blaine remember. He started by taking one of the first items off the wall and reading the last four numbers, trying to get Blaine to find it himself on the sheet.

"7586"

"I can't find it, sir," he'd said, shaking his head. Burt moved beside him and stared down at the sheet, tracing his finger down the line of numbers.

"There it is. Remember, we're looking at the second list right here, and we're only looking for the last four. If it makes it easier you can start by looking for the last one first, so scan the last number for sixes, then see which has an eight in front, and so on. Ready to try again?"

Burt tried three more items, all of which Blaine couldn't find. Burt had to stop himself from taking the sheet from Blaine and doing it himself, but Blaine just couldn't seem to find the right numbers.

"Blaine, I want you to read the last four on this one out to me, okay?"

"4462, sir."

Good, Blaine, good. Now, I want you to read out the last four of each on the sheet until we find it. If you forget what it is just use your finger to mark your place and look at it again."

"2883, 1877," pause, "924..3." Blaine continued to read, and Burt watched over his shoulder. Blaine had started out quite well, but no more than a quarter of the way through the sheet he began to mix up the numbers, stuttering out the numbers he saw through his squinted eye. Burt put his hand over the sheet and slowly pushed it down.

"Blaine, buddy, you havin' some trouble seeing the numbers?"

Silence. Burt stared at the boy whose head had drooped low. He could feel the vibrations of the boys shaking arms through the clipboard beneath his hand. He knew that Blaine would be nervous today, and looming over the boy's shoulder probably wasn't helping much either. Sighing, Burt took his hand away from the clipboard and put his arm around the boy.

"Let's try something else for a while, shall we?"

One of the ladies who had called earlier that morning had pulled up, so Burt gestured to Blaine to stay back while he went to greet her.

"G'morning, ma'am," he greeted, forcing a smile, "you the one who called about the oil change?"

"Yes, and I'm in a bit of a hurry, so how long do you think this will take?"

"Forty-five minutes tops, Ms..?"

"_Mrs._ Dresdon. Last time I went for an oil change it only took twenty minutes, why the delay, you don't look busy."

Burt smiled through his pounding headache, trying not to roll his eyes at the woman before him. She was currently using her gloved hand to brush a strand of her short blonde hair behind her ear before moving lower to readjust the long beige trench coat she was wearing. She stared at Burt. At least, he thought she was staring. Throughout their short conversation the woman had yet to remove her large brown sunglasses.

"Gonna show the new guy how oil changes are done. It really shouldn't take too long, but I want to make sure he gets it."

The woman huffed and moved her head as if under her glasses she was rolling her eyes.

"Can't you just do it and show him later? I'm in a hurry."

"Won't take long, I promise."

Burt took the keys from the woman before he left the shop to pull the car into the garage and got it set for the change.

"Blaine, c'mere, bud," he called out to the boy as he popped the hood. Blaine quickly jogged over and Burt began to show him the steps involved, making sure to ask every few steps if Blaine was understanding. "It'll be easier to know what I'm saying when you actually do it, but we're in a bit of a time crunch here."

When they reached the final step of replacing the oil, Burt passed it off to Blaine.

"Here, why don't you pour it in and I'll tell you when to stop, okay? Just pour this in the funnel there an' we can tell everyone at home that you did an oil change."

"Yes, sir."

With great concentration Blaine held up the oil, standing on his toes to get as close over the funnel as possible.

"Careful, the engine might still be a little warm."

Blaine lowered the canister so that the end connected with the funnel, knocking it a little from place. The boy immediately reached up with his other hand to steady it when his hand made contact with the warm metal.

Blaine jumped a little, causing some of the oil to splash out of the canister and onto his hand. Blaine moved his other hand to wipe away the oil, turning his head to see where it had gotten.

Burt heard the sound before his body registered the feeling of the plastic canister hitting his face.

"What on earth are you doing to my car," the woman shrieked. A loud crash followed.

Burt, dripping in oil, turned to face his adoptive. As soon as Blaine had thrown the canister he had begun to back away from Burt, and in his haste backed straight into one of Burt's spare parts cabinets, knocking it over and sending nuts and bolts spilling all across the concrete floor.

Burt stood in shock and stared at Blaine, trying to steady his breathing as he internally counted to ten, Mrs. Dresdon still fuming in the background.

"Mr. Burt, sir?"

"Go wait in the car, Blaine."

"Sir, please – "

"Just…just go to the car, please. I just – just let me fix this, and then I'll take you home."

The boy hesitated before finally standing, shuffling himself to the door. Burt sighed and surveyed the damage, preparing himself for the mass cleanup that lay ahead.

* * *

><p>Blaine wasn't allowed to have bad days, but if he were, this would be one.<p>

After Mrs. Carole had left him, Blaine had snuggled with his rabbit held tightly in his arms. In that moment he had felt almost…happy as he thought over the events of the day. And then he couldn't stop thinking.

'_This is why you shouldn't think,'_ the rules inside his head screamed as he hugged his rabbit tighter, trying to forget that the next day would be his first and only test to see if he was good enough to be allowed to stay with his keepers.

'_You won't be good enough. They'll return you. Tomorrow they'll see just how broken you are, how damaged you are, how _useless_ you are. They'll see all of it, and then they'll send you back."_

Blaine pressed his nose into Carrot, shaking his head as he willed the thoughts to leave. Closing his eye, Blaine tried to sleep, but couldn't. He tried thinking about the kind words that Mr. Kurt had said about him in the store, and how patient Mr. Burt had been when showing him knots for shoes. He thought of Mrs. Carole's gentle touches and Mr. Finn's jersey.

'_They're only kind because they think you might be useful. If you can't please them they won't have any reason to keep you around.'_

Blaine's breathing became heavier as the thoughts kept coming. He kicked off his blankets as the room became hot.

'_They'll return you, and you won't have any of this anymore. No more nice clothes, no more toys; no more gentle touches or kind words defending you.'_

Blaine's chest felt hollow, and breathing suddenly became impossible.

'_And as fast as you came, they'll replace you as if you were never here at all.'_

Blaine threw up.

He lay panting for several moments before the warmth of his own vomit began to soak through his shirt. No, not his shirt. Mr. Finn's jersey.

Blaine leapt up fast, holding the edge of the jersey out to keep any of his mess from falling onto his bed. No, not his bed. His keepers' bed.

As quietly as he could, Blaine tested the doorknob to see if it was locked. Biting his lip, Blaine eased it open, hoping that there had been no alarms set outside of his room, or traps to catch him sneaking out at night. He knew he wasn't allowed to leave his room, but he couldn't let his keepers find him drenched in his own vomit. If that happened he wouldn't even be given the chance to try to prove his worth to them. The bathroom was only several steps away, but to Blaine it felt like forever. When he reached it, he immediately dumped the jersey into the sink, not wanting to have to risk flushing the toilet and bringing one of his keepers downstairs. Using his hands, Blaine tried to push everything down the drain, turning the tap on as low as he could. Blaine held his breath as he turned on the water a little more, and fought the urge to vomit again as he saw the sink slowly filling with water, clogged from his efforts. Blaine pulled at the built in stopper in the sink, almost dropping it as it came clean off.

'_Well done, you soiled their clothing and broke their sink.'_

Blaine threw up again. Choking and gurgling, the boy blinked his watering eye heavily, trying to clear it enough to see the new toothbrush that Mrs. Carole had given him. Grabbing it from the ledge, Blaine began to shove the hard end down the drain, trying to unclog it. He let out a few shaking breaths, refusing to let himself cry as he slowly unclogged the sink. Once he had rinsed it clean, Blaine removed the jersey and threw it in, using the new bar of soap he had been given to wash it. When it was as clean as he could get it, Blaine wrung it out in the sink and stepped back for a moment to calm himself down. His eyes were still watering, and with shaking hands he rubbed at them both, letting out a sharp hiss as he rubbed his right eye too hard, putting too much pressure on his burned skin. He bit back a whine as the sting slowly subsided, but was replaced with something equally as uncomfortable. Blaine had felt this before. It wasn't uncommon, but it wasn't always this bad.

By rubbing his eye, Blaine had managed to dislodge an eyelash, and somehow it had stuck to the back of his lid. Blaine knew that at the Home they had fished out a couple eyelashes from the back of his socket during cleanings, but those he couldn't feel. Resting on his lid, he could. Sometimes they'd fall out on their own, but when they didn't…

Blaine forced himself to look up into the mirror. Even before his punishment he had avoided them, not caring for his own reflection, but now it was just painful. He'd burned off most of them the day he lost his eye, but the few that remained had been nothing but a hassle. Shaking, he commanded his eye to look at the empty socket as he tried to grab at the eyelash just barely peeking out from the bottom of his lid.

As soon as he grabbed it he looked away, not wanting to see himself anymore. He quickly rinsed his mouth out with water from the tap and gave the jersey one final wring before sneaking back to his room.

For the rest of the night his unsettled stomach combined with his worries about the upcoming day kept him awake. Through the little window across from his bed he watched as the sun slowly rose. A while after, Blaine could hear the sounds of people moving on the floor above him, but no one came.

More time passed, and Blaine began to wonder if he had really been told to wait, or if he should have gone when he'd heard his keepers were awake. Blaine decided to put on his coveralls and eye patch so that when Mr. Burt came downstairs he would be pleased to see Blaine all ready to go. He allowed himself a small smile, praising himself for his cleverness. Being ready might make Mr. Burt happy, and if he began the day pleasing Mr. Burt then maybe the actual work wouldn't be as bad as he expected.

A long while passed as Blaine waited, and just as his eye began to close Mrs. Carole knocked on his door. Jumping up quickly, he opened it and smiled at her. She smiled back before ushering him upstairs quickly, informing him that Mr. Burt had been running late.

"He's on his way back now. You go put your shoes on and I'll get you some breakfast, you can eat it on the way, okay?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole." Blaine went to the door and sat quickly on the floor. Sliding his shoes on, he tried to remember how Mr. Burt had showed him he should tie them. When Carole came back a few minutes later all Blaine had managed was one large knot that seemed to begin nowhere.

"Here, honey, let me do it." Carole stepped in and pulled at the knot with expert skill, successfully unravelling it in half the time Blaine had taken to make it. "I'm going to tie these for you today, and when you come home after work we can practice, alright?"

Blaine nodded as he watched how quickly she tied them. A funny feeling began to take over inside of his chest as she finished tying and patted the tops of his feet lightly. He didn't have long to think, however, as the loud rumble of Mr. Burt's truck became clear outside the door.

"You ready for your first day, Blaine," she asked with a smile. Blaine's throat felt dry as he nodded in response. Carole handed him the paper bag with both his breakfast and lunch before gently pushing him out the door. "Just relax, Blaine. You'll do great today!"

Blaine ran out to the truck while Mr. Burt opened the door for him. He almost started preparing himself to leap in on one go, but a sudden wave of nausea from his lack of sleep overtook him and he stumbled slightly, afraid he would pass out on the driveway. But Mr. Burt was waiting for him, and wouldn't be pleased if Blaine delayed him any longer because he hadn't slept when his keeper had told him to. Blaine hopped in place a few times, putting all of his strength into focusing on grabbing the handle in the truck. Once he had pulled himself in he stumbled again, grabbing the back of the passenger seat so he could swing himself over into the back seat so that he wouldn't land on Mr. Burt. The older man stopped him with his arm and pointed to the front seat. He must have said something, but Blaine couldn't tell for sure. His hearing was fuzzy like when the Educators used to put him in the training box when he was bad, but now the colours in his eye seemed to be fading too. Mr. Burt looked like he was saying something else, but Blaine couldn't pay attention.

"Yes, sir," he responded, hoping that his answer would be acceptable. Blaine felt his body shaking and he quickly sat up straighter, taking deep breaths. Both his hearing and colours seemed to be coming back slowly, and just enough for him to hear Mr. Burt's next question.

"Did you brush your teeth today, Blaine?"

Had Mr. Burt been able to smell his sick from last night?

"No, sir," he said, not wanting to keep the man waiting. Lowering his chin, Blaine breathed into his coveralls to see if he could smell his breath. He couldn't, but if Mr. Burt could that was all that mattered.

"Here, chew this, but don't swallow it."

Blaine took the hard little…pill? And put it on his tongue. As soon as he bit into it he had to fight from spitting it out. His entire mouth felt as though it were engulfed in a cold fire and it hurt. As his eye began to water he opened his mouth, trying to let the pain out.

"Mouth closed, please."

Blaine's cheeks flushed with shame. Mr. Burt had been so kind to him, he shouldn't try to cheat his punishment. He closed his mouth and hummed what he hoped Mr. Burt would know as 'I'm sorry, sir.' At least the pain would keep him awake.

They reached the shop a few minutes later, and while Burt made a dash for the office in the back, Blaine was left to survey the space. Everything inside was grey and cold, just like the group room he had been held in before he had been put up for sale, except it felt different. The room smelled strongly of metal and Mr. Burt, and it felt just like his new home.

'_As long as you make it through today.'_

"Blaine!"

The boy ran towards the sound of his name. Mr. Burt invited him inside and began to give instructions, ordering Blaine to pay attention to his commands. The punishment had woken him a little, but his good eye was still watery. Blaine stepped closer to Mr. Burt until he could make out the numbers on the sheet. He tried not to breathe too heavily in Mr. Burt's ear, but his nerves started to get the best of him again. He wouldn't have been surprised if Mr. Burt could hear his heartbeat.

Mr. Burt took him to the far wall of the shop and instructed Blaine to begin his work. As he began it seemed simple enough, but his lack of sleep and food began to catch up with him quickly. Tired and hungry, Blaine's attention was divided evenly between sleep, food, and forcing his watering eye to focus. Soon the taste of his punishment left his mouth, but tears of frustration fought to take over. Blaine sniffed several times, trying to focus on seeing the numbers as they were written. His eye was starting to jump around more and more, and when Burt finally came out, Blaine was terrified.

"Hey, buddy, how's it goin' over there?"

Blaine froze and immediately stopped working, dropping his head to his chest.

"I can't find the numbers, sir," he mumbled, hands shaking around the clipboard he held.

Mr. Burt began to assist him, and though his words were kind, Blaine could hear the agitation clear in his voice. His keeper was angry with him. His keeper was not pleased with his performance. When the man began to apologize to Blaine the boy had to fight against throwing himself at his keeper's feet and begging for forgiveness. He had made a mistake and had made his keeper upset. Burt's hand on his shoulder became the only thing holding him back from collapsing to the ground.

"May I try again, sir," he begged, hoping his keeper would permit him a second chance to prove his worth, "I'll do better this time sir, I swear I will."

At Mr. Burt's consent Blaine nearly fainted. He was being given another chance and this time his keeper would guide him. The home had never been pleased with having to train their adoptives twice, and punishment always followed for those who required extra education, but Blaine didn't mind. Even if Mr. Burt made him chew the burning pills again, or took his bed and blankets, or even took Carrot (though he silently hoped that he would be allowed to earn it back, or even if he would be allowed to see his toy as a treat when he got better at working) it wouldn't matter. He would be allowed to stay. He was being given a second chance and Mr. Burt would let him stay.

If only he could see the numbers.

"I can't find it, sir." Blaine's heart stopped beating as Mr. Burt pointed out the number easily. He couldn't mess this up. His nerves increased, and as his keeper read out more numbers his vision continued to blur.

'_Congratulations, 45277. Another failure to add to your file.'_

Mr. Burt asked him to read the numbers out one by one. Taking a breath, he started alright, but as he got lower in the list it became harder to see where he was and again the numbers became jumpy until Blaine was just listing numbers, hoping that maybe, _maybe_ he could guess it.

'_Adoptive: 45277. Caucasian male, 15 years of age. Behaviour with first Keepers so poor they were forced to physically disfigure Adoptive. Second Keeper deemed Adoptive useless and unable to follow simple instruction or perform basic tasks.'_

"Blaine, buddy, you havin' some trouble seeing the numbers?"

'_They'll hang it on your door. And when even the ones who come in to buy the sick and the dying pass you by…they'll take you for your final Check Up.'_

Blaine felt Mr. Burt leave his side and choked back a sob. It was already so hard watching his keeper go and he was still within plain sight. Would they take him back themselves? Call the Home to come get him? Would they think he wasn't even worth the phone call and lock him outside until he froze, starved, or was beaten to death by strangers?

"Blaine, c'mere, bud," Burt called out to him. Blaine ran over quickly, forcing his feelings away so that he could pay attention to his keeper, trying to commit the voice to memory for when he was alone again. He hung onto the man's every word, knowing that he would never use the information he was being taught, but wanting to embrace his last chance for learning anything new.

When Mr. Burt handed him the plastic can Blaine almost smiled. He was being given one more task; he was allowed to finish his work with something done right. Mr. Burt was allowing him one final, satisfying memory. He was going to do this one simple task right.

Standing on his toes, Blaine made sure his eye was as close over the funnel as he could, not wanting to spill anything on Mr. Burt's customer's car. It was hard to tell how far down to bring the canister, so he stopped when it hit the edge of the funnel. He reached up to steady it, causing his hand to come in contact with the metal. The very warm metal.

The warmth in his hand immediately climbed through his skin and heated up the burns on his neck and face. The feeling startled him, causing him to jump a little, spilling some of the liquid on his hand. Still shaken about the heat, Blaine absentmindedly wiped at the liquid with his free hand, glancing over to make sure it hadn't spilled elsewhere. When he saw what it was his entire body was filled with dread.

Oil.

Mr. Burt had tricked him. He'd made him think he would be allowed to do one more thing right but he lied. _He lied_. As soon as the sight of it had caught Blaine's eye he had flung the canister as hard as he could, wanting to get it away. Mr. Burt wasn't going to call the Home, take him himself, or leave him to die. Mr. Burt was going to finish him himself.

The heat, the oil, the pain, _the pain_.

Mr. Burt was going to burn him again. He was going to let the burns spread across his entire body, and this time there would be no sink to throw his head into, and no one who would call the home to take him away while he was burning and raw _and screaming and crying_.

There was a crash somewhere behind Blaine, and before he knew it he was on the floor.

'_Where you belong. Where you will always belong.'_

"Mr. Burt, sir," he begged, hoping the man would just beat him to death instead.

"Go wait in the car, Blaine."

"Sir, please –" Blaine didn't even know what he was begging for anymore, but he was cut off by his keeper's angry voice again.

"Just…just go to the car, please. I just – just let me fix this, and then I'll take you home."

Home. _Home_.

Mr. Burt wasn't going to burn him. He was going to take him to the Home. He was going to give him back. Blaine almost laughed with joy at the thought of going to the Home to be given The Injection. It didn't seem so frightening anymore.

Blaine stood and shuffled himself over to the door, not trusting his shaking legs enough to lift them fully off the ground.

"You're not going to punish him?"

Blaine looked up to see the lady storming towards his keeper. He shrunk lower where he had paused and bowed his head, hoping her anger wouldn't make his keeper change his mind and burn him now.

"No, I'm not," Burt answered, staring down the woman before him.

"Why on earth not? He _threatened_ you, he _ruined_ my car –"

"Blaine did not threaten or ruin anything. Your car is fine, I'll top it off and you'll be all set to go, no harm done, alright?"

"No, that is not alright," the woman screeched, closing the gap between herself and the man, "this is why those _things_ should be kept away from the general public. They should stick to assembly lines and cleaning services so that rogues like that aren't endangering anyone but themselves."

"He's not 'endangering' anyone. He touched something hot and had a bad reaction. Was it a little excessive? You bet. But that don't mean he's dangerous, and don't you think that I don't get that you just called him stupid with your 'assembly line' talk, 'cause I got that and he ain't. It's his first day and it's been a long one for both of us, so don't you come in her judgin' him because he's just learning. He's freakin' fifteen, for Christ's sake! Cut him some slack, he's just a kid."

During his rant Burt had positioned himself in between Blaine and the lady, slowly moving back until his body made contact with Blaine's.

"This is disgusting," she fumed, glaring at Blaine, "fix my car so I can get out of here, and don't think that I'll ever be coming back." She stormed over to the driver's side, about to get in as Burt called out to her,

"Can's on the floor. Pretty sure there's enough in there to get you down to Main Street. There's a few shops down there, good luck finding one without an adoptive manning the counter!"

Blaine and Burt watched Mrs. Dresdon as she yelled between Burt and the car before finally dumping in the rest of her oil before she began fighting to put the hood down again. Burt offered his assistance, but surprisingly, she declined.

As she pulled away, Burt angled his body towards the small boy and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about her, kid, you're doin' just fine," he whispered, shooting a wink at Blaine. The boy's weight seemed to transfer entirely to Burt's body as Blaine all but collapsed into him.

"Thank you, Mr. Burt," he choked out, raising a tentative hand to lightly hold onto the loose fabric of his keeper's heavy coat.

"Don't ever thank me, Blaine. You're a remarkable kid, y'know, goin' through everything you've been through. If you need another day or a week or two to settle in that's alright too, we'll start back at it again when you feel comfortable, okay?"

Blaine ducked his head into Burt's shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent deeply.

"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Burt, but I will work for you, sir, and I will get better, I promise."

"You don't need to get better, Blaine. You just need to be you. We'll give it a few days at least, and if you're really itchin' to come back you can. But don't go thankin' me for that either, Blaine. I'm just tryin' to make sure you're okay, bud, because that's what family does, Blaine: we look out for each other."

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><p><strong>I'm so sorry I can't go through everyone but it's 11 and I work in like 5 hours and I'm sorry and I love you and we can still be friends? Come play with me on tumblr, if you have a specific question or something that I didn't get to just message me (oh-woffie, same as here :P) and I shall reply! Again, so sorry, and know that I appreciate and love every single person, reviewers, readers, and alerters alike!<strong>

**First off, thank you all for being so emotional. The as;iofhef's and the kicky feets and creys and the feels make my day so harsh, it's awesome!**

**Is Blaine developing a crush on Kurt: At this point it's not a crush so much as it is a better sense of trust. Last chapter was the first time he's ever had anyone stand up for him, let alone defend him in public in front of strangers, so it's more admiration of the 'omgz you're my Batman' variety.**  
><strong>If this story goes Klaine it won't be for a long time. There will be elements there that could be taken as going either way (like Carrot :D) but for now he's really got to trust them, and that's going to be as tough as calculus.<strong>

**Don't worry, we will figure out what happened to Blaine, but I don't want the Hummels to treat him too differently once they know, so it's more a wait for them, but it will happen.**

**Yes, it totes-magotes does matter to me who you are, and I am sadpants that FF took away your identity. Call me spoiled but I watch out for you regular reviewer peeps.**

**As far as how long this will be? Erm that depends if I do everything in one go, or if I split it up into two, or if I forget that I'm writing and stop after the first part, but for convenience sake let's pretend we're sticking with pt. 1 - I have no eye deer. I'm thinking once they hit around 6-8 months (it won't all be 6 chapters per day :P) it'll be about the 3/4 mark. Methinks.**

**I'm so sorry if I skipped something big, but feel free to message me here or on Tumblr, and to those who have PMable accounts you'll be hearing from me after work/my post-work nap.**

**Stay sexy, y'all!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Ugh, I know this is super late and super short and super filler but I've been picking up some cray-cray OT at work and haven't had the time to get out the chapter I wanted to. We'll call this part A, and after Batman part B should be up soon. I'm sorry for the wait, guys.**

**I lurve you, and I'm not abandoning this, but if it takes longer to update I'm super sorry, it'll happen, just maybe not as often as I'd like .**

**-I fully acknowledge that there WILL be errors and weird things with this, these past two days were the ones I set aside to write and I've had the worst two day hangover of my life. Srsly, someone shoot me. Irresponsible, I know, but I have learned. Oh goodness, have I learned.-**

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><p>Burt stood with Blaine, gently running his fingers through the boy's tangled damp hair. Burt's other arm was wrapped tightly around the boy's shoulders, supporting his entire body weight and trying to keep him from falling.<p>

"D'you wanna go home?"

The boy nodded into his shoulder, though he made no move to stand or move away. Burt pulled him tighter and dropped his head, resting it in Blaine's hair. He hadn't been able to do this since Kurt was young. His boy had never been overly affectionate, and even after a nightmare Kurt had always run to his mother, but there had been a time (in the months that followed his mother's passing) that Kurt had allowed him to get that close. They would be in the middle of washing dishes or sitting and watching TV and Kurt would go to him without a word, drop his head against his father's chest and cry. They would sit together for as long as it took for his little boy to feel okay again.

But Blaine wasn't his little boy, and his life couldn't be any further from okay.

As Blaine pressed his body more firmly against Burt, the older man started to hum softly until the gruff sound turned into words.

"Baby mine, don't you cry  
>baby mine, dry your eyes.<br>Rest your head close to my heart,  
>never to part, baby of mine."<p>

It was the song that Katherine used to sing to Kurt during thunderstorms and tummy aches. Burt could still remember the sound of her voice from his hiding place just outside the doorway as her voice melded with their son's until it was just her singing to their sleeping child.

"Little one when you play  
>don't you mind what they say.<br>Let those eyes sparkle and shine,  
>never a tear, baby of mine."<p>

Blaine's hand curled tighter into Burt's shirt as the man rocked the boy gently, trying to bring his mind back into the present and away from the memory of his past wife.

"If they knew sweet little you  
>they'd end up loving you too.<br>All those same people who scold you,  
>what they'd give just for<br>the right to hold you."

He heard a small sniff below his head and felt Blaine's head nuzzle itself closer against his neck. The boy's body weight shifted away from Burt before settling against him again with a quiet sigh.

"From your head to your toes  
>you're not much, goodness knows.<br>But you're so precious to me,  
>sweet as can be, baby of mine."<p>

Burt chuckled as he looked down at the boy. His face was mostly hidden, but from his steady breathing and the fluttering eye he felt against his collarbone, Burt was sure that Blaine was either asleep or close.

"C'mon, kid, let's get you into the truck."

"Buh, th-th'mess. I made 'mess." Burt reached out to gently steady the boy, who had tried to back away and survey the damage he had caused with a bleary eye.

"S'okay, Blaine, it'll get clean soon, kay? Right now we're gonna go, an' you can sleep in the car on the way home, how does that sound?" Blaine nodded before stepping back to look at Burt's chest.

"To your home, Mr. Burt?" He smiled and looped his arm across Blaine's shoulder gently.

"Our home, Blaine. And when we get there you can go to sleep in your bed, and after that, if you want, we can make some peanut butter sandwiches, or something like that, okay?" Blaine hummed and rubbed at his good eye with the back of his hand. Burt led him as quickly as he could to the truck, making sure to remember to flip the open sign and lock the doors.

He practically had to push the boy up and into the truck, and by the time Burt himself was seated, Blaine was sitting with his back perfectly straight, one eye open, but fluttering lightly.

"That's not natural, kid," he mumbled as he started the car. He turned the radio on low to distract himself from thinking about what had just happened and why Blaine had reacted the way he did. He needed to get them home safely, and he knew that if he let his mind wander too far it wouldn't be good for either of them. Besides, if the explanation wasn't coming from Blaine himself, it was purely speculation on his part. He needed to wait for Blaine to talk to him, and to do that he had to wait for Blaine to wake up.

When they pulled up into the driveway fifteen minutes later, Burt tried to gently shake Blaine awake, but the boy was out cold.

"Blaine, buddy, can you open your eyes, please? We gotta go inside and you can sleep there, okay?" Blaine only grumbled in response as he leaned into Burt's hand on his shoulder. Burt tried again but the boy didn't show any signs of waking. With a sigh, he stepped out of the truck and went to the front of the house, unlocking and opening the door. He walked quickly back to Blaine's side, stepping up to reach across the sleeping figure and undo the seatbelt.

"If I drop you, buddy, I'm so sorry," Burt mumbled as he reached his arms under Blaine. With a grunt he lifted the boy, taking a few moments to adjust the weight in his arms. He was lighter than he thought he'd be, but that didn't mean Burt would be able to hold his weight for long. Once Blaine was out of the truck, Burt closed the door with his back and began the short trek up to the door. Half way there Blaine mumbled something unintelligible and nuzzled into Burt's shirt with a soft sigh. His arm came up slowly and his fingers wrapped themselves gently around the collar of Burt's shirt. As they passed through the front door Blaine started his mumbling again, shifting in Burt's arms, almost causing the man to drop him. Burt knew that there would be no way he would be able to walk down the stairs with Blaine, so he settled on placing him gently on the sofa. When he moved to step away, Blaine let out a whine, hand tightening around Burt's shirt. He reached to try to pry it loose, and watched as Blaine's face dropped into a frown before grumbling loudly. Burt pulled away quickly and shuffled over to the stairs. He knew that he'd told Blaine that no one would go into his room, but he figured that Blaine would forgive him this once. Pushing the door open slowly, Burt looked over to the perfectly made bed and tried to scout out the rabbit. Seeing it settled in the corner of the bed against the wall and half hidden by Blaine's pillow, Burt walked over to it and picked it up as carefully as he could. Blaine seemed to have taken quite a bit of care to hide the rabbit under the edge of his blanket and pillow without making the sheets appear disturbed. It felt like a betrayal of trust to take the toy from the nest the boy had so carefully built, but tired Blaine seemed to like to hold things, and Burt didn't know how comfortable the kid would be if he woke up cuddling Burt.

Turning to leave, he caught a waft of something that didn't smell all too right. Carole and Kurt had spent a good deal of time cleaning the small room before Blaine had arrived, and he knew that they hadn't found anything gone bad down there. Blaine had only been in the room for two nights, had he brought some of the lasagne from last night down here? No, that wasn't the smell. Burt walked around the room, sniffing to find the source of the smell. It grew stronger when he reached the bed again, and he bent down to smell it. Had Blaine wet the bed? No, it was coming from under.

Lifting the edge of the blanket, Burt saw a pile of the bags that had held Blaine's new clothes as well as some of the clothes themselves. Sifting through them, he found at the bottom of the pile one bag with something in it. It was twisted closed tightly, and again it was evident that Blaine had gone through a great deal of effort to hide it. Letting it twist open, the smell increased as Finn's jersey came into view. It looked damp, and feeling it through the bag confirmed it. It also smelled like vomit.

He stared at it for several minutes, thinking about what the soiled jersey implied. Was Blaine sick? Was it just nerves? Had the boy slept at all? It hurt to think about.

He picked up the bag, toy, and one of the blankets from the bed before making his way to the stairs, tossing the bag into the laundry room on the way. Blaine hadn't moved at all from where he was left, and Burt slid the toy into his arms. Blaine latched on instantly and pulled it close against his body. Burt draped the blanket over the boy's sleeping form, tucking it in snugly around him.

Crossing the room, Burt turned the radio on low hoping it would drown out any of the noise he'd be making in the kitchen. Carole had left for work a few hours ago, but Burt felt the need to phone her and ask about how Blaine had been when she'd gone to wake him up that morning.

When he left the living room, Burt picked up the phone and dialed, peeking around the corner to see that Blaine was still sleeping. After being redirected by the receptionist, he waited patiently for Carole to answer the call.

"_Hello, Burt?"_

"Hey Carole."

"_How's work been so far, is Blaine doing okay?"_

"Um, we ah, we're home now, things weren't really as smooth as we hoped, but we can talk about that later. I was just kinda wonderin' how he was this morning when you got him up. Did he seem like he'd slept, or…" Burt trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

"_He was already up and dressed, bed made, everything. I didn't see him too much, Burt, just packed his breakfast in with his lunch, tied his shoes, and sent him out to the truck. We didn't have much time, is he okay?"_

"Wait – you packed his breakfast?"

"_Yes, and I put his Tylenol in the bag with his sandwich, he knew it was in there, did he not take it?"_

"I, uh, I didn't know he hadn't eaten, we didn't really get a chance to slow down today."

"_Burt! Is he eating now?"_

"No, he fell asleep on the drive back here and I couldn't get him to wake up again. I went down to his room to get his rabbit an' I found Finn's jersey in a bag under his bed. Kinda looks like he might've thrown up on it an' tried to wash it out, just wonderin' if he looked sick this morning."

"_Oh, poor baby. No, he didn't look sick, just nervous. Burt, I'll see what I can do to get home earlier, just make sure that when he wakes up he takes his Tylenol and drinks some water. Finn keeps his sports drinks in the cupboard beside the fridge; he might not like the taste but see if you can get him to drink one. If he's hungry we have some chicken noodle soup in the pantry; if he's sick he might not want anything heavy. I'll try to get home earlier, but if anything happens call me, okay? I love you, Burt."_

"Love you too, Carole." Hanging up the phone, Burt looked over at Blaine again. He barely twitched in his sleep, and when he did move it was to adjust the toy in his arms. Even asleep Blaine was gentle with the rabbit, like he thought it would break or disappear if he was too rough with it.

Burt left the room and went upstairs to take a shower, hoping that Blaine would still be sleeping when he returned.

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><p><strong>Guesties! I know, I'm sorry I haven't updated. I suck. I'm so mean to Blaine, but don't worry, now that we know he's a cuddler we should be getting some more fluffies soon!<strong>

**Araidel: Hehe thank you, I'm so happy that the two POV's worked like I wanted it to. I was a little worried it would seem like just a way to fill up space. Maybe I should put him in bubble wrap...but he'd probably think I was trying to strangle him. Hmmm...**

**musicbeyondmagic: REQUEST FOR THE HIGHEST OF FIVES GRANTED. Super happy you liked Burt, and not to worry, cuddles coming soon! (ps HI LL WHO IS NO LONGER LL BUT STILL IS MY LOVELY NON-ANON LL! :D)**

**KlainePotter: I really do love the two of them together, and I think that they really could have done more with that in the show, but we'll make up for it ourselves!**

**Guestie Shea! Aww, thank you! I really hope that you never have a bad everything wrong day like that, and if you do I'll lend you Blaine and the fam for some Hudmel-Cuddles. Hopefully that'd make it kindasorta better. :D**

**Rory46: You can take him home as long as you agree to give him back long enough for the next chapter :).**

**Guestie Kate! I'm sorry for the hurting feels, no matter how awesome they may be. Again, super happy the two perspectives worked out, and yeah, when I started it I really had no idea where I was going with it, I just wanted to write it both ways. Then the oil change happened and I went with it. Hmm. Glad it worked!**

**TheFallingGirl: SORRY (I'm not sorry) I HURT HIM! Burt is freaking awesome. Everyone should have a Burt in their life because of awesome. :D**

** : HI! Muahaha, sorry I didn't give any more on his injury, but one day we shall know. Until then I'll try not to destroy him completely.**


	17. Chapter 17

**I thought this was going to be up earlier but I got distracted by the Starkid contest and I wrote a song instead. So s'cuse me please while I go cry in a corner until the 31st.**

**I know it's going to bother some people that I write Mr. and Mrs. and then write out the word Miss, but I feel like Miss and Ms. has a different pronunciation, and frankly I have to write Ms. on all my government forms and it makes me remember that I'm single and I know that I'm okay with that, but then those government people call me Miz and it just makes me rage because it's Miss, people, MISS! Not Miz. That sounds like wiz, and no one wants to be called wiz unless it's in reference to wizard but I'm not one, thank you for reminding me, so stop calling me Miz, plzandthx.**

**So that's my reasoning.**

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><p>"<em>Come here, boy."<em>

_Blaine walked quickly towards his keeper and fell to his knees before her as she lay on the dark leather couch. The woman reached out with one delicate hand and began to stroke his face with the back of her fingertips. The boy blinked at the hard wood floor beneath him as the woman stared at his downcast eyes._

"_Beautiful, beautiful boy," she murmured, leaning closer to his ear, "my beautiful little boy. You were bad today, weren't you?"_

"_Yes, Ma'am."_

"_It makes me feel so…old when you call me that, boy. It's just the two of us now. What are you to call me when it's just you and me?"_

"_I call you Mistress, Mistress."_

"_Good boy. Now you were somewhere you shouldn't have been today, weren't you?"_

"_Yes, Mistress," he replied unmoving. The woman reached around his head until her hand was tangled in his curly mass of hair and pulled him close so that her lips were pressed against his ear._

"_You saw something you shouldn't have, didn't you, my beautiful boy?"_

"_No, Mistress. I didn't see anything." He could feel the woman smile against his ear._

"_That's good, boy. That's very, very good." Her hand tightened painfully in his hair as she jerked his head back, eliciting a sharp but soundless breath from the boy. "Because you know what would happen if you had, don't you, my pet?"_

"_Yes, Mistress."_

"_And what do you say when your master comes home tonight? What do you say if your master asks you about things you saw?"_

"_I say I saw nothing, Mistress." _

"_And why do you say you saw nothing, my precious little boy?"_

"_Because I saw nothing, Mistress."_

"_Good boy," she whispered. The woman gave his hair another harsh tug, pulling his cheek flush against hers. "You're such a good boy, my pet. You should be rewarded for being so good."_

_The boy's body fought the urge to stiffen at her words. Rewards were rare, but when they came…_

_The boy felt his ear become warm and wet all in the same moment. It tickled, but he didn't flinch or pull away. Instead, the boy kept his focus on the floor in front of him, denying any emotions he might feel and fighting the urge to cry out as he felt her teeth bear down into his ear, ignoring the sickening crunch as she broke through the cartilage._

Blaine woke silent and still, refusing to open his eye until the hazy feeling of the dream had subsided. It was rare that he dreamed at all, but when he did, he usually wished that he hadn't. It was a result of thinking too much, that he knew, and he mentally chided himself for allowing his thoughts to take over his mind as much as they had. Blaine tried to focus on the world around him, and his ears picked out the soft sound of music. He had always been lucky. His previous keepers had been good to him, and sometimes during the weekends they would turn on the stereo for an hour or two and allow him to listen to music as he worked. He couldn't always hear the words, and sometimes the sound was so quiet that he could only hear the occasional melody, but he knew it was there. Right now it sounded like the music was right there in the room with him. It was beautiful and soft, and the voice of the woman singing was so clear it felt as though she was singing to him.

Blaine sighed lightly and nestled into the soft pillow he was resting on. Coaxing his eye open he blinked a few times to clear his vision before he settled on a pair of brown eyes staring directly into his. Blaine stiffened and dropped his gaze. The woman – or girl, as she turned out to be – stopped singing instantly and replaced the sound with a high pitched squeal.

"Oooh, you're awake!" Blaine fought the urge to wince as she screeched in his ear. He didn't know how someone with such a beautiful singing voice could have a speaking voice that was so grating. The girl continued speaking quickly and loudly – louder than even Mr. Kurt spoke. "I've been waiting here for a while; I let myself in about ten minutes ago with the key under the flowerpot on the front step, Finn told me it was there so I know it's okay if I use it and I would have knocked but I didn't think that anyone was home because I know Burt and Carole are usually both at work by now and Finn and Kurt have glee club with me - that's actually why I'm here, Finn and I got into a little bit of a 'lover's spat' the other night because he thinks I'm selfish and self-centered or something like that, so I'm proving my love to him by sacrificing my other love: show choir. I'm prepared to miss every New Directions practice from now until regionals to prove that our love is greater than my selfish need for attention and drama. I've made sure everyone in glee knows about it so that they can help me convince Finn that I'm not as selfish as everyone thinks I am... "

The girl continued to ramble on as Blaine tried to steady his breathing. He was still a little groggy from waking, and the girl's berry scented perfume and loud volume weren't making him feel any better. Blaine's head was pounding, and he was sure that she was getting louder with each word she spoke. He felt a wave of nausea spread through his body and pulse deep in his chest. He couldn't help it.

Blaine vomited on Rachel Berry.

The boy coughed over the side of the couch a few times, gripping the edge of it tightly in one hand, covering his mouth with the other. The room had gone silent save for the sounds of the radio that still played in the background. Blaine rolled himself off of the couch and landed with a thud on the floor, bowing to the girl.

"Please, Miss, I'm sorry," he begged her.

"It's okay, it's okay. See? I'm still smiling because everything is okay. No need to worry or anything. Believe it or not this isn't the first time I've ever been thrown up on, and with all the slushies I've had thrown at me I'm actually quite good at cleaning myself up again. I'm just going to go grab a cloth and we'll clean you up, and then I'll run to the washroom and take a quick shower, and then after that I can make you some soup and help you get better." The smile never left her face as she spoke, and Blaine slowly began to relax. The girl was loud, but she didn't seem angry. Mr. Burt may not be too pleased, however, when he saw what Blaine had done.

"I messed the carpet," he said sadly, almost to himself. He had luckily missed the couch, and only a small amount had gotten on his hand, but Miss Rachel seemed to have gotten the worst of it. It was mostly liquid, as Blaine hadn't eaten anything all day, but he was still mortified at having embarrassed himself and his keepers to the strange girl.

"That's okay, Blaine, I'll clean that up! You just go back to sleep so that you can feel better, alright?"

"You know my name, Miss?" Blaine had asked innocently enough, but the girl's face twisted in annoyance.

"Contrary to what most everyone will tell you, I do actually listen when people talk to me. Finn wouldn't stop talking about you all day and I did pay attention to most of it. I know all about you, Blaine, and I bet you don't even know who I am, do you?" She stared at the boy, eyes large and annoyed, causing Blaine to sink down further into the wet carpet.

"I'm sorry, Miss, Mr. Finn did speak of you, but I apologize, I don't remember what I was told to call you."

The girl's gaze softened and she bent lower so that she was closer to Blaine's level.

"That's okay, Blaine. My name's Rachel, and you can call me that if you want to, but Finn said you won't stop calling him Mr. Finn so I'm guessing you're going to want to call me Miss Rachel, which I actually kind of like. It kind of makes me feel like I should be in an old Audrey Hepburn movie wearing pearls and having boys pulling out chairs for me and laying their jackets down in puddles so that I can cross the street. It's a very romanticized image I have, so I guess it would be okay for you to call me that."

"Thank you, Miss Rachel."

"You are very welcome, Mr. Blaine!" The girl smiled at him brightly before she skipped away into the kitchen. Blaine looked around him at the mess he had made before he unbuttoned the coveralls he was still wearing, pulling off the top half and using the sleeve to wipe at his vomit.

"Oh, don't do that, Blaine. It's okay, I'm going to clean that up for you. You don't have to do anything except tell Finn how I selflessly sacrificed one of my favourite sweaters for you then spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning up after you and nursing you back to health. Oh, speaking of, I brought you a glass of water. I thought maybe you'd want to rinse your mouth out."

"Thank you, Miss Rachel," he answered, taking the glass from her outstretched hand. He glanced up to her a few times before taking a small sip of water. He almost moaned as the cold liquid passed through his lips. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he was given the water, but now that he had it he couldn't get enough.

"Careful, Blaine. If you drink it too fast you might throw up again."

Blaine didn't hear her as he kept drinking. The girl started to pull his arm down with one hand, causing him to choke and sputter on the floor. Blaine felt that he might vomit again, but leaned forward and took several steadying breaths. They didn't know that he had been sick the night before, but if he continued to throw up at everything they might start to think that he had a problem. Maybe then he wouldn't be worth the effort to fix him.

Miss Rachel was still speaking, though she was quieter than before. Blaine was grateful for the change, until he realized that she wasn't speaking to him.

Bringing his forehead up from the carpet, Blaine was able to make out the shape of Mr. Burt's feet in front of him. Pushing himself up on his knees, Blaine forced his body forward so that he was directly underneath his keeper. He brought his head down and lay it gently on top of Mr. Burt's feet before the rest of his body collapsed. He closed his eye and tilted his head as his keeper's fingers ran through his tangled hair. Nausea spread through his head again, and his hearing started to fade. Miss Rachel had left and returned again with a damp cloth, holding it out to Mr. Burt to wipe Blaine's face. The cool cloth felt refreshing, and Blaine opened his eye to look at his keeper's hand as it ran across his mouth and hands. His hearing slowly started to come back, and he could hear both Mr. Burt and Miss Rachel speaking to him softly. Mr. Burt had crouched down beside him, and Blaine shifted himself so that his head was resting on his calf.

"You can go shower if you want, Rachel. Feel free to root through Finn's closet an' see if there's anything you can wear. If not look through Kurt's, but don't tell him I told you to."

The girl skipped away into the kitchen leaving the two alone. Mr. Burt's hand continued to skim through the short curls, causing Blaine to push his body closer, scooting upwards a little so that his head now rested on his keeper's thigh. Blaine had never been allowed to be close to his keeper like this before. He had touched them, and they had touched him, but it had always been for bedroom work. Now as he lay in the older man's lap, Blaine knew that he shouldn't push his luck, but he wanted to see how close he was allowed to get. Mr. Burt hadn't pushed him away, nor had he told him to stop. Blaine snuggled deeper into his thigh, slowly reaching his hand up to touch his keeper's foot. Once he started he couldn't stop. When Mr. Burt had held him in the shop his mind had gone blank. All he had thought about in that moment was of wanting more; wanting to be closer and to be touched and held and safe and secure all in one. Mr. Burt's arms felt like that. His hand started to creep to Mr. Burt's calf, but he stopped himself. He wasn't allowed to touch. He shouldn't be touching. Mr. Burt didn't want him for that.

'_Then why isn't he stopping you?'_

Blaine carefully laid his hand on Mr. Burt's calf and paused. He wasn't being stopped. A rush of nervousness and excitement hit him all at once. He hadn't done this since before his punishment, and he didn't know whether or not he would be able to satisfy his keeper, but now he knew why Mr. Burt hadn't been angry about the garage. This was his chance.

Miss Rachel burst into the room again, causing Blaine to jump from Mr. Burt's lap.

"I made you some soup. I thought it would be nice for you to have something to settle your stomach before I went to shower." She handed the soup and a bottle of Gatorade to Mr. Burt.

"Thanks, Rachel," he said as he took them. The girl left and Mr. Burt passed Blaine the food, instructing him to eat as he opened the bottle. Every few bites Blaine would look up to see Mr. Burt staring at him. His old keeper used to stare too, until he grew tired of looking and started to touch. Mr. Burt was waiting longer than his other keeper ever had, so he tried to eat faster. When he had finished his soup, Mr. Burt handed him the bottle.

"You're probably not gonna like this, it's a little sweet, but it'll make you feel better." Blaine drank it in small sips. Mr. Burt was right when he said Blaine wouldn't like it, but he drank it anyway. When he had finished half the bottle he was told he could stop. Blaine replaced the cap on the bottle before he set it down, and immediately crawled towards his keeper again. His hands settled high on the older man's thighs and he balanced there for a moment, trying to remember how he should continue. Mr. Burt raised his hand to stroke the boy's cheek, staring intently into his eye.

"You okay, Blaine?" He swallowed.

"Yes, Master," he said before closing the distance between them. He felt his keeper jump as his lips connected with the man's neck, and as Blaine's tongue darted out to lick the tender skin he felt himself being forcefully shoved away. "Did I do something wrong, Master," he asked, crouching low.

"You don't – I don't want you to do that kind of stuff, Blaine. You don't have to do that."

"I can do better, sir, if you let me please."

"No, no, no, Blaine. This kinda stuff…it's not what you're here for. We don't expect this from you, and we don't want you to do this stuff…with us." His hands were still raised to keep the boy from advancing, but Blaine made no attempt. He sagged in his spot on the floor, shoulders slumping, looking completely dejected.

"I'm not pretty, sir," he whispered, plucking at the carpet with his hand.

"What?"

"I'm not pretty, sir," he repeated louder, pulling more forcefully, "I was pretty before – my keepers used to tell me so, but I'm not anymore. I'm sorry, sir." The boy stopped pulling at the carpet. Instead, he rested his forehead on top of his hand, trying to poke the fluff he had pulled back down into the floor.

"Blaine, look at me, please." Blaine bowed his head again, raising his eye to his keeper's knee. "No, at me, please." Burt bent lower towards Blaine, and the boy raised his head slightly, though he kept his eyes low. "Now I want you to listen to me right now, and you listen good, Blaine. You are an amazing, smart,_ beautiful_ boy – and don't you ever let anyone tell you you're not. Me not wanting to do that kind of stuff with you has absolutely nothing to do with the way you look. You're an amazing boy, Blaine, and this is your body. Stuff like that is for people who love each other in a very special way, and you deserve to save that part of yourself for someone who you love, and who loves you back."

"I love my keeper, sir."

"But not in the same way, Blaine," Burt reached out and cupped Blaine's chin, pulling it up and leaning in so that they were eye to eye, "I love you, Blaine, but one day you're going to fall in love, and you're going to get what I mean. Until then, no one in or out of this house is ever gonna use you for sex. I mean it, Blaine. It's your body, and you get to say no. But when you fall in love, you can do whatever you want, as long as you're careful and the feeling's mutual, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Burt smiled at Blaine and clapped him on the shoulder before standing up.

"Now, I gotta go get Kurt an' Finn from school. I'd bring you along, but a car ride's not really a good idea if you're not feeling better."

Blaine jumped as he heard a door slam upstairs followed by Miss Berry's loud, grating voice carrying through the halls.

"I'm feeling much better, sir," Blaine stated, jumping to his feet quickly and running to put on his shoes before his keeper could say another word.

* * *

><p>Burt fought a smile as he watched the boy fumble with his laces. Blaine had started to tie them as soon as he put them on, but when Rachel had come downstairs again Blaine was already out the door.<p>

"Don't like her much," he'd asked casually as he started the car.

"She's very nice, sir."

"Buuut…"

"She's very loud." Burt had laughed at that.

"Louder than Kurt?"

"Very much so, sir."

"She's got one heck of a singing voice though, doesn't she?"

"I like hearing my keeper sing better, sir."

Burt fought a laugh at that, but looking at Blaine he saw the boy had been completely serious. They drove a while in silence after that. Burt fought to keep his eyes on the road, but every so often he would glance at the boy. Blaine's brow was furrowed in concentration and he had sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His hands were swooping and twisting but he seemed to have no luck tying anything other than a large knot. As soon as they pulled up to the school, Burt instructed Blaine to stay where he was before getting out of the truck himself and making his way to Blaine's side.

"Now you start like this, ready?" Burt had grabbed one shoelace in each hand, gesturing for Blaine to do the same. He continued on just as he had the day before, but this time he paused a little longer in between steps to see how much of it Blaine had remembered.

After he had discovered where to start, Blaine was quickly able to tie his own shoe without hardly glancing at Burt. When they had finished, the boy giggled softly and sat up straight, looking triumphantly at Burt. The older man smiled before grabbing the end of the bow he had made and pulling.

"Good job, Blaine, now try it again."

He looked nervous as he started, glancing at Burt every few seconds to verify that he was doing it right, and after a little verbal coaching he was able to finish by himself.

"Done, sir," he whispered proudly. Burt rubbed his shoulder lightly before helping him step down from the truck.

"You did great, Blaine. See how fast you did that? And all by yourself, too. I'm proud of you, kid."

Blaine ducked his head into his shoulder before he shook it.

"You helped me, Mr. Burt."

"Yeah, but you did all the dirty work yourself."

Blaine giggled and Burt threw his arm around the small boy for a moment before he let it fall, trying to remember that Blaine wasn't Kurt: that this kind of touching didn't come off as reassuring to the boy.

When they rounded the corner they could begin to hear the sound of singing coming from the choir room. Burt quietly pushed the door open, and Blaine leaned close to him so that he could both hear and see the music better.

The kids were in the middle of some elaborate dance routine and didn't notice when the two slipped in. The boys were spinning the girls, and the girls were singing something in beautiful harmony. Looking at Blaine, he saw that the boy seemed absolutely captivated by the vibrant colours and swirling dresses. At least when they left him home alone tomorrow they'd know that he'd be able to entertain himself.

All the boys were dancing with a girl, save Finn. The gawky teenager seemed to be having trouble with the choreography without his partner there, and mistakenly stepped on the foot of another member.

"Dude, the hell! Watch it, some people are trying to dance over here," the boy with the mohawk, (Puckerman, Burt remembered) called out, shoving Finn forcefully.

"Dude, man, I'm so sorry, I got kinda dizzy from all that spinning and stuff – "

"You're not supposed to be the one spinning, idiot. That's the girls' part."

"Yeah, but without Rachel here someone needs to do her stuff – "

"The singing, not the dancing, you moron."

"As much as I hate to say it, we need the hobbit," one of Finn`s ex`s said, sighing heavily. The blonde cheerleader – Brittany, was it? Looked up at that moment, spotting Burt and Blaine. Jumping excitedly, she pointed at the small boy.

"Look, guys, I found us another hobbit!"

All the students turned to stare. The boy in the wheelchair was closest to them, and he wheeled over.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel. This must be your new adoptive." He turned his chair to Blaine, who sunk down to one knee until he was lower than the boy in front of him. "Oh, you don't need to do that, you can stand up if you want to. I'm Artie, what's your number?"

"He has a name," Kurt snapped from across the room. Artie's eyes grew wide and he held his hands up in apology to Blaine.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that my parents have a few friends with adoptives and they all go by numbers, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings or anything."

Burt placed his hand on Blaine's shoulder, but the boy stayed kneeling.

"My name is Blaine, Mr. Artie," he said, smiling softly. Artie smiled back before he began to introduce everyone else. Everyone stepped forward to greet Burt and the boy when they were named, except for an odd sounding girl named Sugar, who claimed she was too good to talk to adoptives.

When Artie had finished, Brittany skipped over and flopped beside Blaine on the floor, dragging Santana with her.

"Who took a blowtorch to your face," Santana asked, staring unabashedly at Blaine.

"Oh my god, Santana," Brittany said, staring at her girlfriend, "you can't just as people why their faces are burned."

"I think it's badass," said Puck, jumping in, "like, I think they should have called you Harvey."

"Harvey? That's hardly a 'badass' name, Puck," Quinn piped up.

"'Course it is. Harvey. Like Harvey Dent." They all stared. "Two-Face, guys, come on. I cannot be the only one who watched Batman."

"He's nothing like Two-Face," Kurt snapped, pushing Santana over and taking her place beside Blaine, "but you do make an excellent Harvey Dent."

Burt could see that Blaine didn't understand the reference, but he smiled at Kurt anyway.

"But seriously," Santana continued, brushing herself off, "what happened to the face?"

"That's not really what we're here to discuss right now, Santana. Blaine and I just came down here to hear you guys sing. You were sounding pretty good, too. Right, Blaine?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Burt." Mercedes laughed from her place on her chair.

"You're just sayin' that because you're Kurt's dad, and he's just sayin' that because he has to. We suck, and we all know it."

"We wouldn't be so bad if Rachel was here."

"But we don't know where she is, do we, Finn."

"She's at our home, Mr. Kurt," Blaine cut in. Burt wasn't sure what had made him more proud: the fact that Blaine had voluntarily jumped into a conversation, or the fact that he had just called the Hudmel house his home.

"Is she waiting for me to call her or something?"

"She better not be touching my stuff."

"She was taking a shower, sir," Blaine said, obviously unsure as to who he should answer.

"Why's she showering," Tina asked.

"I vomited on her, Miss."

The group fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Okay, okay, I admit it," Santana said, pointing to Blaine, "I like you, hobbit."

The sudden loud noise had obviously startled Blaine, and he leaned sideways to rest against Burt's leg.

"Alright, that's enough, everyone. We've gotta get home now, but you're all sounding really good. Hopefully you get all that Rachel stuff sorted out before your playoffs and whatnot. Finn, Kurt, Blaine; let's go, guys."

As they walked out into the hall they were met by a frazzled looking Schuester.

"Where are you guys going? We've got a glee rehearsal scheduled."

"No, Mr. Schue, we had a glee rehearsal. You missed it."

"Oh," the man said simply, turning to Burt, "Mr. Hummel, hello, how are you?"

"Fine, Schuester," the man replied, continuing to walk away.

"And who's this?"

"This is Blaine, our adoptive."

"Oh," Schuester cleared his throat before leaning in towards Blaine, "HELLO BLAINE, I'M MR. SCHUESTER, KURT AND FINN'S TEACHER."

"He's not deaf," Kurt hissed, causing his teacher to jump back in surprise.

"I saw his ear was burned and I – "

"Goodbye, Schuester." Burt placed his arm around Blaine's shoulder and ushered him down the hall and out the door. "I don't like that man," he said as soon as they reached the truck.

"Oh come on, guys, he's really not that bad."

"Finn," Kurt shot the tall boy a blank stare, "he really is that bad."

Blaine started to get in after Finn but he was stopped by Burt.

"Nope, I told you that you were up front today, kid, an' that means now too. Besides, you're less likely to get sick again up here."

Blaine stayed back and watched Kurt pull himself into the truck, his shirt pulling up slightly in the back. Finn's head appeared through the gap in the seats soon after.

"Yeah man, about that, did you really throw up on my girlfriend?"

"Oh, I truly hope so," Kurt laughed from behind the seat, causing Blaine to smile back at him before pulling himself up into the truck and shutting the door. As soon as the truck started Burt turned on the radio and began to sing along loudly, urging Kurt and Finn to do the same. The boys sounded pretty good, and Burt knew he was horrible, but one look at the smile on Blaine's face, and at the sound of light humming coming from the boy's direction, Burt didn't really care how bad he sounded. He had finally discovered something that Blaine actually liked: music.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi lovely reviewers and alerters and readers alike! I lurve you all, I hope that this longer than last chapter chapter is acceptable and not as angsty as the last ones, but I don't know. The next one's gonna be pure fluff I think. And if it's not it'll be the one after that. Orrrr after that. But the fluffy bunnies are coming!<strong>

**FireAngel5683: Vai vai sleepy indeed. A little sick too, apparently. Thanks for the review!**

**Nurse Kate: Aww, thank you so much for saying that, it makes me so happy. And yes, I have some plans for Blaine doing some stuff (maybe he won't be all that good, but PapaBear!Burt won't really care because Blaine's found something he enjoys). :D I was going to try to fit it in here for you in this one, but it didn't really work out. Sooon though!**

**mybrotherharry: Thank you very much! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next one should be less disjointed though.**

**Kellz: Ahh I'm so happy I made you cry! ;) Good things are coming, don't you worry, and there'll defs be more Carrot in there too.**

**musicbeyondmagic: So glad you made an account! Yaay! I have to creep you now :). But good creeps, not scary weird creeps.**

**Guest: He really is, isn't he? Thanks for reading!**

**GleekOutKlaine: Aww, thank you very much, I appreciate your review. Blaine does need a nice long movie day, doesn't he? Hmmm...**

**iadorespike: D: I'm sorry if it was hard to read, but I'm glad you're powering through! I hope this story doesn't make you cry too much. Don't get me wrong, I love making people cry, but good tears, not rain forest of sadness tears. We'll get to some happy vai vai soon, worry not! :D**


	18. Chapter 18

**This is a little shorter, but I didn't make you wait as long! There's a catch though - I don't know when I can update next. Most likely no less than a week and a half to two weeks, depends on when I get time off. On one hand - yay!Money. On the other...this is my 'I'm sorry' in advance. **

**:D**

* * *

><p>"Carole won't be home until later, so it looks like we're gonna have a bit of a guys' night tonight," Burt said as they entered the house.<p>

"Sweet," Finn called out, running into the kitchen, "we should make burgers!"

"Finn Hudson, you know how I feel about you eating red meat! Kurt, back me up here." Rachel stormed down the hall and paused in front of the kitchen with her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Why are you wearing my bath robe," Kurt asked angrily before turning to his father. "Why is she wearing my bath robe?"

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Finn's clothes are too big for me and your dad told me I could wear yours so I am. Finn, are you really going to put that in the mouth that you think you're going to be kissing me with?"

"Ummm…" Finn looked confused while Kurt glared at his father. Burt threw up his hands and left the room, disappearing down the hall and calling Blaine behind him. The boy happily rushed after him.

"Sorry about that, Blaine, but I figured you wanted to be a part of that as much as I did. I'm gonna get you to take a bath and while you're doin' that I'm gonna go grill some burgers. You like hamburgers, Blaine?"

"I don't know, Mr. Burt. I've never been allowed."

"Alright, well I'll make 'em anyway and we'll cut off a little for you to see if you like it, and if you don't we'll get you some more soup or peanut butter or something. Sound good?"

"Yes sir."

"And if you're not feeling good again you let me know. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes sir."

"Were you maybe not feeling so good this morning?" Burt could see the hesitation in his eyes when he answered.

"I was not sick this morning sir."

"Blaine, are you sure?" Burt tried to catch the boy's eye with his, but Blaine ducked low.

"I was sick last night, sir. I'm sorry."

Burt sat down on the edge of the bathtub, gesturing for Blaine to sit beside him. Instead, he kneeled in the mat in front of Burt, turning the burned half of his face towards his shoulder, refusing to look at the man before him.

"It's okay to be sick, Blaine, but it's also okay to tell me or Carole – or even Kurt or Finn. We all just want you to be happy and okay, and if you're sick we just want you to feel better. So you go have your bath and I'm gonna make us some soup, okay? Don't worry, We'll have burgers another day, no one's gonna be upset about that."

"I'm not sick anymore, sir. I was just nervous."

"What were you nervous about, Blaine?"

"Not being good enough to stay, sir." Burt sighed and slid forward to sit on the ground.

"Blaine, you are an amazing kid, and I'm gonna keep telling you that until you believe me. There is nothing wrong with you, and I can't think of any reason why we would ever send you back."

"I did badly today sir – "

"And there are gonna be a lot more days like it. The important thing is that you don't let the bad days outweigh the good ones. There are always gonna be bad days, but that's okay, because we learn from them and we move on so that when the good comes around we can appreciate it more."

Blaine bit his lip and turned his head, exposing his burns to Burt. The older man had noticed how much the boy tried to hide his face. It had been easier when his hair was long, but now it was more obvious. Blaine didn't like people to see him, and Burt could only hope that in time he would get better.

"My face – it doesn't bother you, sir?"

"If I had no eye would it bother you?"

"No, Mr. Burt, but – "

"There's no buts about it kid. One eye, one arm, no hair…we'd love you just as much, and nothing's ever gonna change that, okay?"

Blaine smiled crookedly as he wrapped his arms around his body tightly, looking at Burt with a bright eye. Burt grinned back and leaned closer, pulling Blaine into a short one-armed hug that left the boy beaming with delight.

"May we have hamburgers tonight, Mr. Burt," he asked cautiously, his smile breaking slightly, though it never truly left his face.

"Absolutely, kid. You go ahead and get some water in the tub – and make sure it's warm enough, okay?" The boy nodded. "Good. I'm gonna run and grab you some clothes to change into, and you feel free to pick out some bubble bath you want too. They're under the sink, go ahead and sniff a few and see what you like, then put in about a capful under the water when it's running."

Burt left Blaine alone while he ran downstairs to grab a change of clothes. He wasn't going to mention finding the jersey to Blaine. When he brought it up to him already clean the boy would know, but he hoped that having talked about it would ensure that Blaine knew he wasn't mad. On his way back up, Burt picked up an old CD player that Kurt had seemed to have abandoned downstairs. There was already a CD in it, so he hoped it would be something that Blaine would enjoy.

When he re-entered the bathroom, Burt let out a short laugh as he saw Blaine sitting on the edge of the tub, picking up bubbles and letting them fall again. The boy giggled, not noticing Burt's presence, as he picked up another handful and squished them together between his hands, jumping a little as some flew up and into his face.

"If you run out of bubbles you can let some water out and put more back in," Burt said, causing Blaine to drop his hands quickly, his cheek turning a bright shade of pink.

"Yes sir," he replied quietly. Burt dropped the clothes beside the tub, trying not to look at Blaine's face as the boy realized that his soiled shirt had been found and cleaned. "Mr. Burt, I'm sorry that I ruined – "

" – I thought you might like this, too," Burt started, cutting off Blaine, "I don't know what CD's in it, but it's one of Kurt's so if it's bad make sure you let him know."

Blaine was silent as he watched Burt plug in the player. When Burt smiled up at him Blaine dropped his eye to the jersey before looking back to Burt again.

"Take as long as you want, and if it gets too cold you can use more water. Don't try to wash your hair though; we can do that in the sink when you get out so you don't get soap on your face. Have a nice bath, Blaine."

Burt smiled at the boy again before he pressed play and left, shutting the door behind him just as the beginning chords of the song began to play.

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later, Burt had just finished barbecuing the burgers, bringing them in on a plate and setting them down on the counter for the boys. Finn had managed to usher Rachel out of the house eventually, and Kurt was busy mourning the loss of his robe. Blaine was still in the bath, as far as he knew, and the house was quiet.<p>

Until Finn smelled the burgers.

"Are they done? I'm starving."

"Yeah, we're just waiting for the fries and Blaine, then we're ready to go." Finn sniffed at the burgers before peering into the oven.

"Those are the burgers that Kurt made for you, right?"

"D'you really think he'd be okay with me eating them if they weren't?"

"I guess."

Kurt came down soon after, smiling when he saw what Burt had prepared.

"You're using the whole wheat buns, right, Dad?"

"Don't you worry about me, Kurt; I know what I can and can't eat."

"Just checking," he muttered, glancing at the stove, "Blaine still in the bath?"

"Yep. And I gave him your old CD player to listen to. I told him that if he didn't like the music he should blame you, 'cause it's the CD you already had in there." Burt placed each patty on a bun before going to pull out the fries from the oven and lettuce from the fridge for a salad for himself.

"Wait, which CD player?"

"The one in the laundry room." Kurt furrowed his brow for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"I know what CD that was. Rachel wanted to sing a song for Finn for Valentine's day, but they got into a fight, surprise, surprise, and she didn't end up doing it. She brought it over so I could practice singing backup for her. There's just one song on that disc, so I'm going to guess that after forty-five minutes he'll be more than a little tired of it. I'll go get him and tell him he can turn it off."

Kurt left the kitchen and walked down the hall towards the bathroom where he could hear the end of the song playing. He reached the door just as the opening guitar sounded again, and he raised his hand to knock but was stopped when he heard the vocals start – and a very non-feminine voice singing along.

"_You think I'm pretty, without any makeup on.  
>You think I'm funny, when I tell the punch line wrong.<br>I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down."_

Kurt looked around quickly, trying to find a way to call his dad over without letting Blaine know he was listening and without having to leave the hall himself. Kurt placed his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh as Blaine's voice grew louder and more confident.

"_Let's go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love.  
>We can dance, until we die. You and I will be young forever."<em>

He fought a squeal as Blaine practically growled out the last word. There was no doubt about it: the boy could sing. Kurt practically bounced as he mouthed the chorus along with Blaine, listening to the boy's quiet singing as he pressed his ear close against the door.

"_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream,  
>The way you turn me on. I can't sleep<br>Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

_My heart stops when you look at me  
>Just one touch, now baby I believe<br>This is real, so take a chance  
>And don't ever look back, don't ever look back." <em>

Kurt bit his lip as Blaine went into the next verse. Obviously he hadn't minded being stuck with only one song. Blaine had managed to learn all of the words in the time he had spent listening, and though Kurt knew that forty-five minutes was long enough to learn one song, he couldn't help but feel proud of Blaine for doing it anyway.

"_I'ma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans  
>Be your teenage dream tonight.<br>Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans  
>Be your teenage dream tonight."<em>

He heard Blaine pull the plug from the tub and ran down the hall quickly, hoping that Blaine wouldn't open the door until he was gone, not wanting him to know that he'd listened. A moment later Blaine appeared in the kitchen in his jersey and sweatpants. His hair was still dry, but his skin looked slightly damp. He smiled at them before approaching the stove, standing close to Burt and offering him his help.

"That's okay, Blaine, you go put stuff on your burger and I'll get these out then we're done, okay? And if you go by Finn he'll show you how to do it, and maybe he'll let you try some of his to see if you like it."

"Yes, Mr. Burt," Blaine said as he approached the table, watching Finn to see how the other boy was assembling his burger.

"You wanna try this first," Finn asked, breaking off a piece of meat in his hand before holding it out to Blaine. The shorter boy leaned forward and took it gently in his teeth, chewing carefully before giving Finn a soft smile.

"I like it, Mr. Finn."

"Sweet. Now what about this?" As Finn let Blaine sample the condiments, Kurt sneaked over to his father.

"Dad, I heard Blaine singing in the bathroom."

Burt set the tray down before he turned to his son, fighting off a smile.

"Was he really?"

"Yeah. He's actually really good, too. And he sounded kind of happy." Kurt sniffed and looked at Blaine, who, from the look of it, did not like mustard. "We really are making his life better, aren't we?"

"I really hope so, Kurt," he said, giving his son a quick hug before addressing the other boys in the room. "Alright, now who wants fries?"

Burt and Kurt ended up having salad, while Finn and Blaine had fries. Blaine had tried one, and after being instructed to blow on it before he tried again, he seemed to like them. He hadn't liked the ketchup or mustard, but had enjoyed the pickles. Finn had sliced a few for him and put them on his plate, and Blaine, after seeing Finn dip his fries in ketchup, had resorted to dipping his own fries in his pickles. Finn had thought it was funny, so he poured some of the juice from the jar into a small container and gave it to Blaine.

Burt thought that they might be more comfortable eating in the living room (as long as no one told Carole) and they all sat down on the couch, save Blaine, who hesitantly stepped onto the carpet, looking to Burt for approval before he sat down on the floor against Burt's feet. Rachel had, as she had promised, cleaned both the couch and carpet, and Burt had to admit that she had done a great job.

Once they had settled down, Burt asked for suggestions for movies.

"What about 'Die Hard', that's a guy's movie," Finn called out as he jumped up to their video cupboard.

"Ugh, that's so violent, Finn. Can't we watch something a little quieter, like 'Gone with the Wind', or something?"

"Dude, that movie's like, five hours long. And nothing happens in it."

"What about you, Blaine, what type of movie do you like."

Blaine looked up at Burt, swallowing his food painfully fast before shrugging.

"I don't know, sir. I don't watch movies." Blaine hesitantly set his plate down in his lap before looking at Burt again, his cheek darkening. It took the older man a moment to realize that Blaine had been embarrassed by being caught eating. Why, he didn't know, but as Burt reached down to rub his shoulder, the boy visibly relaxed before he raised his hand to poke at his food again, eye almost connecting with Burt's for reassurance.

"What about one of the Batman's? We totally have the one with Two-Face in it."

"Oh my gosh, Finn, we are _not_ making Blaine watch that. Like I said to Noah he is nothing like Two-Face and I don't think he should watch it."

"What about that monkey movie. Y'know, the one about the circus and stuff and there's that mouse that helps him fly or something and it's got that song in it," Burt cut in, hoping that the boys would both understand that Blaine would probably prefer something lighter than what they had in mind, and that they would know the movie he was talking about."

"You mean the one with the elephants? 'Dumbo'?"

"Yeah, that one."

Both Finn and Kurt looked at each other before shrugging. Finn pulled the movie from the cupboard and threw it into the DVD player.

"Oh, yeah, before I forget, Rachel said she cleaned this up for you." Finn set Carrot down right beside Blaine and Burt reached over to pull out Blaine's blanket from the stack beside the couch. He carefully tucked it around the rabbit before placing the end on Blaine's feet.

"When you're done eating you two can share," he said, patting the boy's shoulder. Blaine quickly finished his food, and after only a few minutes he had Carrot in his arms, snuggled into his face as he watched the movie intently.

When the song, 'Baby, Mine", started to play, Blaine jumped in his seat and turned sharply to stare at Burt, a large, lopsided grin on his face.

"This is your song, Mr. Burt," he exclaimed happily, practically vibrating where he sat. Burt turned to look at Kurt, who he saw had tears in his eyes. He was smiling sadly at his father, though at Blaine's words his smile grew and his eyes sparkled a little brighter.

"Do you like that song, Blaine," he asked, breaking eye contact with Burt. The boy nodded.

"Mr. Burt sang it to me, sir," he said a little softer.

"Can we share it, Blaine?" The boy smiled again as he nodded.

"Please, Mr. Kurt. I would like that very much, sir."

Kurt giggled and slid to the floor, sitting close beside Blaine and Carrot.

"I'd like that too, Blaine."

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><p>When Carole arrived home late that night, the first thing she noticed was how quiet the house was. Stepping further into the living room, She saw all four of her boys sleeping peacefully. Burt had stretched out on the couch, and Finn had sprawled out in his father's chair. Blaine had fallen asleep sitting upright on the floor with his rabbit clutched tightly in his arms while Kurt's head rested in his lap. The credits for 'Mulan' were playing in the background, and Carole moved to turn it off, noticing that both 'Dumbo' and 'Toy Story' were pulled out beside the player.<p>

Turning around, she noticed that Blaine had woken up. The boy took in a long deep breath in before he shifted, cracking his back. She saw him look down at Kurt sleeping in his lap, and watched as he very hesitantly pushed the hair from his eyes. Blaine looked to Burt and Finn, not noticing her in the room, before he slowly, very slowly, bent his body forward, pausing with his head just above Kurt's before taking a deep breath and placing a quick, soft kiss on the other boy's forehead.

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><p><strong>Gah! Yaaay!<strong>

**Joseph: I don't really remember much of second grade myself; I'm a bit of an ex-glue sniffer. **

**twostepper: I'm glad you like cuddles! Our little cuddle whore seems to be getting cuddlier by the hour. I hope you like boy cuddles as much as fatherly cuddles. :D**

**sparrowlark: Did I update soon enough? :P And thanks for the review!**

**GleekOutKlaine: Haha I thought about HP, but I think that might be a little too heavy for Blaine right now - even though it is a kids' movie. Plus I don't think he'd really get the concept of magic - but that could be interesting too... maybe he'll start with the books!**  
><strong>In all seriousness though, if you want to write another version of this go for it. I don't own the plotline at all, and I really do love reading different versions of the same story. It's never the same when you have two people writing something, so if you do just let me know 'cause I would totally read that. I started this one because I read other Slave!Blaine fics that didn't go where I wanted them to, so I decided to write what I wanted to read. I would by no means be the least bit offended if anyone took parts of this and used it for something else. <strong>

**CAStonehouse: Why thank you very much! I really want to get as much of canon Blaine's personality into this, and I have a few ways of getting some of it in so far, so hopefully that works. Music is the reason why we ever met Blaine, though, so I figured that should be first and foremost. **  
><strong>I really don't like writing about the sex stuff because it is non-con, but unfortunately when I was planning this out a large part of the plot revolves around that, so I had to bring it up eventually. Le siigh. One day I'm going to write the kinkiest, smuttiest story that anyone has ever read, and anyone reading it is going to finish and go, 'dafuq I just read' and I will just sit there and say, 'yeah, I wrote that shiz.' and you will all judge me but that's okay because - Klaine Sex -.<strong>  
><strong>I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long! :P<strong>

**Guestie! I think your review was lovely and beautiful and sexy, thank you!**

**Nurse Kate: I do like to torture poor Blaine..oops. I was nervous getting him to meet them too, but after he threw up on Rachel I didn't really see how they could not like him. They'll definitely be in it more soon, and if they're nice to him I'm sure Kurt'll find some way to say thank you.**

**Parmelde Lorntiere: I'm glad you liked it! :D I had to find some way for Blaine to fit in and that seemed like the best option so it happened. Haha yes, I'm really not a Schue fan, as you can tell. I thought about making him nice but I've been doing that with all the canon characters so far, and that's not realistic. **  
><strong>Thanks! Good luck to you as well, I hope they like your design!<strong>

**KlainePotter: Hahaha I don't think I've ever used totes adorbs in a sentence before, but that's gotta change. My co-workers thank you in advance ;P And yes, Blaine can sing! :D**

**musicbeyondmagic: Yes! Just wait until Kurt gets him into the musicals ;). The others will definitely be back soon, but I thought that a short intro was all Blaine could handle right now. They'll be back, just in smaller numbers. Schue might not though, 'cause I really can't stand him.**  
><strong>Thanks for the good luck! :D<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**This chapter is rushed. Not because I wrote it in like 5 minutes but because it's the first one that I've ever wanted to push through so I could get to the better stuff coming up. If that comes across I'm sorry, but I have a plan! Rare, I know, but a plan, a plan, a plan!**

**Again, thank you to everyone for your amazing feedback. It's really cool to hear what everyone thinks, so thank you!**

**(and sorry this is late D:)**

* * *

><p>Carole doesn't say a word to Burt, Kurt, or Finn. Instead she watches Blaine watching everyone the next morning at breakfast, after everyone has woken from their uncomfortable positions in the living room. Blaine's eye seems to hold in it that look of wonder all children get when their dad fixes their bike on the first try, or when their mom manages to get out the tiniest sliver from their finger without it hurting too much. Blaine has a bad case of hero-worship for all of them, but especially for Kurt.<p>

Kurt had told them all about the thrift store when he had defended Blaine to the employees. The way Kurt told it, it had come out sounding routine: just Kurt Hummel showing the ignoramuses of Lima, Ohio, not to mess with someone just because they're different. Both Kurt and Burt seemed to get that what had happened had had an effect on Blaine, but they didn't seem to realize just how much.

They hadn't seen Blaine in the car, afraid to be near Kurt. When they had come home, the boys all seemed so focused on the rabbit that Carole was almost certain that none of them – not even Blaine – had noticed how Blaine had developed a smile for Kurt. The damage to the boy's face made it impossible for him to smile fully, but Blaine's Kurt smile was less guarded. It showed just a little more teeth, and caused his eye to squint slightly. He was starting to smile more for all of them, but it was different when it came to Kurt.

The boys all left for school and work, leaving Carole alone with Blaine. She had gone to kiss Burt goodbye, and when she returned to the kitchen, Blaine had already cleaned up most of the dishes.

"Oh, Blaine, you don't have to do that. Today`s your day off, you go relax."

Blaine stood frozen in front of the sink, holding a soapy plate just above the water as he went to rinse it.

"I'm not allowed to help, Mrs. Carole," he asked timidly, biting his lip as he turned his head at an almost painful angle so he could see the woman. Carole walked over to him quickly, placing her hand on his shoulder and lowering his arm into the water.

"Blaine, I know Burt's talked to you about this already, but you're just here to help out in the garage. Apart from that, we don't expect anything from you, just that you'll try to do your best there. You don't need to do anything when you're home, just relax and enjoy the time off." The boy's head dropped as he let go of the plate. He wiped the suds off of his hands quickly before he backed into the corner beside the garbage can and dropped to his knees.

"I will sit quiet, Mrs. Carole," he said, voice soft and low.

Carole began to chew on her thumbnail absentmindedly as she watched the boy. He looked so dejected sitting in the corner that Carole felt compelled to write a list of mundane chores for him to complete during the day, but she resisted. Sighing, she picked up the towel from the counter.

"Want to dry?"

She had to fight off a smile as Blaine jumped up from his spot, practically bouncing towards her as he reached for the towel. The boy watched her carefully as she washed each dish. He handled each of the plastic plates she passed him as though it were her finest china, and he dried and stacked them so carefully she had to slow down her washing so that he could catch up.

When they had finally finished (in nearly twice the amount of time it would have taken Carole by herself – but who was counting?) Blaine's knees buckled slightly so that he was nearly half a foot shorter than usual. Carole reached to catch him, but he merely ducked his head and raised the good side of his face to look at her stomach.

"Did I do alright, Mrs. Carole," he asked softly, both hands grasping at the fabric of his jersey. Carole raised her hand to run her fingers lightly through Blaine's hair.

"Yes you did, Blaine. Thank you for helping me."

Blaine smiled bashfully, regaining some of his height.

"Am I allowed to help with more housework please, Mrs. Carole, or am I to sit quiet again?" He fingered the cloth between his fingers nervously as he waited for her to respond. Carole had paused with her hand in his hair, unsure what to say next. Did Blaine think that housework was a privilege? Had he hated the garage that much, or did he just not want to sit on the floor all day? She wouldn't make him, of course, but if it was because he wanted to… maybe he didn't know what else he was allowed to do.

"If you want to, sweetheart, of course you can. Right now I was hoping that you would want to play a game with me before I have to go to work. Then after I'm gone maybe you would want to play by yourself, or you could put a movie on, or listen to music, or read. Any of that sound good?"

Blaine looked up hopefully as soon as he heard 'music'. Carole smiled and ushered him into the living room where she immediately turned on the radio before opening a drawer and pulling out a deck of cards.

"Have you ever played Go Fish?"

In the end, it turned out that explaining the rules took longer than the actual game itself.

"Blaine, do you have any aces?"

"No, Mrs. Carole, but I have a four, a six, and a K. Would you like one of them?"

"No, honey, you don't tell me what you have, I have to guess."

"Oh. Sorry, Mrs. Carole. Would you like to guess a four, six, or K?"

"That's okay, Blaine. It's your turn. You can ask me if I have one of your cards now."

"Do you have a four, Mrs. Carole?"

"Why yes I do, Blaine." She pulled the card from her hand and passed it to the boy. Blaine stacked it neatly against his before placing it carefully in front of Carole. "Honey, that goes on your side. You guessed it, it goes in your pile."

"But they are not my cards, Mrs. Carole. They came from your deck, Ma'am, and now they are paired, don't I give them back now?"

Soon after that Carole declared it a tie and insisted they move on. Splitting the deck, she explained the rules of the game War, telling him that all he had to do was flip the top card over, and whoever had the highest number won both the cards. Blaine ended up winning quite a stack, but when he ran out of cards from his original pile, he refused to use the cards that he had won. That game was also declared a tie.

Solitaire proved to be much more promising, as 'winning' wasn't always an option. He understood the concept easily, and began flying through the stack with little hesitation. It wasn't that she had thought that Blaine wasn't smart, but he needed a more direct goal than 'try to win'. Putting the cards in order was easy to understand, and if he couldn't, he could just try again. No wins, no losses.

When she finally left, Carole had ensured that Blaine knew how to set up the game himself, and had given him her phone number with instructions to call if he needed anything – even help with his game. She had even set down a bowl of saltine crackers and milk beside him so that he would at least have something to eat if he got nervous and refused to open the refrigerator.

"The boys should be home around four, and Burt's meeting me at the hospital for dinner so he won't be back until around six. Is that okay with you, Blaine?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole," he answered distractedly, shuffling the deck of cards carefully.

"If you get hungry you eat whatever you eat whatever you want, okay?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

"Are you even listening to me, Blaine?"

The boy snapped suddenly to attention, dropping the cards in his hands and turning to face Carole, cheek burning.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carole. I am listening, Mrs. Carole."

"Honey I was just teasing, you play your game, okay? I'll see you tonight. I love you, Blaine," she said with a small smile. Blaine stiffened and his neck twitched painfully. He stayed silent for a moment, watching Carole from the corner of his eye.

"Thank you…Mrs. Carole," he answered hesitantly.

"You're welcome, Blaine," she whispered before stepping out the door, closing and locking it behind her.

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><p>Blaine watched her go with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. His keepers were different – that much he knew. He had never been allowed to play games before, and now they told him to do so instead of working? It was probably a test.<p>

Blaine replaced all of the cards in the box quickly, purposely ignoring what Mrs. Carole had said as she had left because he didn't understand what she had meant, but there was no time to figure it out now. Not when there was work to be done.

He worked quickly to dust the tables and cabinets and vacuum the floor. As soon as he turned the vacuum on, he had casually vacuumed over towards the stereo, turning it up so he could make out the sounds of music over the sounds of noise. Once he had finished that, he put his cleaning supplies away, 'forgetting' to turn the volume down again. Blaine was almost giddy as he felt underneath the sink for a bottle of Windex, bouncing happily when he found it. He had always saved this part for last. It was the only part that his old keepers had ever checked, and it was what he (gladly) spent most of his time on. Blaine loved washing windows. He loved feeling the warmth of the sun in the summertime and the chill of the wind in the winter. At his previous keepers' home the neighbour's children were always out in the yard doing something or other, and Blaine loved to watch them. They were loud, yes, but they could enjoy being outside. Blaine had let himself daydream once that he was outside as one of them, but somehow his keeper had known his thoughts, and he was punished heavily for it. He had not been allowed to wash that window for a long time.

Blaine settled himself in the window as he began to methodically spray and wipe the Windex from the glass. The scenery was different here. This place was greener than his previous home, and people seemed to walk by every few minutes. One couple even _waved _at him, but he ducked quickly behind the curtain, hoping that he had been mistaken and that they had seen a bee or a fly and not him watching from the window. He hoped they wouldn't tell his keepers he had been misbehaving again. Blaine finished that window quickly before he moved on to the back.

He had seen the yard when he had tried to bathe himself, but he had been too distracted by how cold he was and by trying to be quick that he hadn't really been able to look. It was huge. There was a small section of concrete that ran alongside the house, but the rest of the yard was grass. Blaine loved grass. Over the years his previous keepers had let him sit in the grass four times. They had been having a luncheon party and had needed Blaine on call, so he had been allowed to sit when he wasn't needed to work. Then one day the sun had been so warm and the grass so soft that Blaine had fallen asleep. He hadn't been allowed on grass again.

A sudden pounding on the window startled Blaine from his thoughts. He slipped off of the sill and landed with a loud thud on the floor.

"_Dude, you okay?"_ He could hear Mr. Finn's voice from outside, and he scrambled up to let him in.

"Sorry, Mr. Finn," he managed to breathe as the tall boy came through the front door, followed by two other large boys. Blaine cowered as they ran past, not recognizing either of the strangers.

"I forgot my key this morning, and the front door was locked. I tried knocking, but I guess you didn't hear me."

Blaine paled visibly as he ran to turn the stereo off. Turning around he saw that Mr. Finn had followed him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have had music on. I won't do it again, sir."

"Naw, it's cool man. We're gonna be out back anyway, but Artie's gotta pee before we start, and we figured it'd be easier to carry him in than to go over the gravel or something."

Finn waved over his shoulder, and Blaine shifted so that he could see who was behind him. Mr. Artie rolled past, waving and offering a chirpy, "hiya, Blaine," before continuing on to the washroom. The other two appeared shortly after.

"You remember these guys, right, Blaine," Finn asked, pointing to both of them.

"Hey, dude."

"Sup, man?"

Blaine nodded as he heard their voices. He hadn't looked at either of them when they had first met, but Blaine was very good at recognizing voices.

"How are you today, Mr. Mike, Mr. Puckerman?"

"I'm good, man, but you can just call me Puck."

"And you can call me Mike, if you want to. We were going to pass the ball around a bit outside, if you wanted to join us."

Blaine looked at the tattered football in Mr. Puck's hands before turning back to his window.

"I haven't finished cleaning, sir," he answered. Mr. Finn frowned and looked as though he was about to say something, but Mr. Puck cut him off.

"No problem, dude," he said, walking up to the window and picking up the rag Blaine had been using. "I'm like a pro at windows. I'll get this one done if you wanna go change or something and we'll play a bit after that, okay?"

Blaine looked to Mr. Finn, who seemed pleased with Mr. Puck's solution.

"Alright, sir," he said, bowing his head and retreating to the stairs. On his way down he thought about what he should wear outside. Nervous energy built steadily inside him as he thought about being allowed to finally touch grass again. Blaine realized that he had no clothes that he was willing to get dirty, so instead he settled on wearing a pair of light blue briefs and a grey undershirt that Mrs. Carole had slid in with his clothes. He knew that it was just as precious as any of his other clothes, but he thought that maybe Mrs. Carole and Mr. Burt wouldn't be as angry with him if he ruined his underclothes instead of anything else.

Blaine fought to walk up the stairs, though he was tempted to run. He didn't want to slip, or risk showing eagerness so that Mr. Finn wouldn't allow him to come with them. He stepped shyly into the room just as Mr. Puck finished the window. He smiled when he saw Blaine, beckoning him over.

"Hey dude, ready to play?"

Blaine's mouth suddenly went dry and numb all at once. He settled for a quick nod, which the other four boys accepted without question. Mr. Mike eyed his clothing with a questioning glance, but no one else seemed to mind, so it was left alone. Blaine followed them as far as the edge of the concrete patio before he stopped.

"Will Mr. Kurt be joining us, sir?"

The last thing Blaine wanted was to be told no just as he began to relax. If Mr. Kurt wouldn't let him play, he would rather not go at all than be told he was bad in front of the others. His cheek flamed with just the thought of the embarrassment he would feel, and he hoped Mr. Kurt would let him.

"He's at cheerleading practice, he'll be back in like an hour. If you want we can drag him out and play teams or something?"

Blaine hadn't listened past when Mr. Finn had told him Mr. Kurt would not be there. With a small grin, he stepped timidly onto the grass, releasing a small sigh as his bare foot was tickled by the tiny blades of grass. He raised his eye to Mr. Finn, who waved him over. Blaine quickly let his other foot follow his first, and soon he had jogged over towards his keeper.

"We're just going to play catch for now. Have you played before," Mr. Artie asked kindly. Blaine shook his head.

"No sir."

"It's easy. All you have to do is catch it when someone throws it to you, and throw it to a different person after you've caught it."

The four boys passed the ball between them a few times before Mr. Puck tossed the ball lightly to Blaine. The boy stood still, waiting for the football to hit him in the chest before he scurried after it to pick it up. Once he had it in his hands, he jogged quickly back to Mr. Puck and handed it to him softly.

"No man. You gotta catch it when it's still in the air, and you gotta throw it back. Here, watch me."

Mr. Puck demonstrated the catch again by tossing the ball high into the air before catching it and throwing it to Mr. Mike.

No matter how they tried, Blaine still refused to try to catch the ball, and again showed no signs of wanting to try throwing it either. Playing catch with Blaine was beginning to prove to be much like playing fetch with a new puppy. He didn't understand how it was supposed to be played, but he seemed to be enjoying himself anyway.

"C'mon, dude. Just try to catch one, okay?"

Blaine stared at Mr. Puck without saying a word. His old keepers used to throw things at him sometimes, but he was never allowed to raise his arms to stop anything from hitting him. And throwing? He could hurt his keepers. But they seemed insistent that Blaine should try. Biting his lip hard, he bounced a little in place as he lowered his head to keep his eye on the ball before he nodded, raising his hands in front of his hips.

"Okay, Mr. Puck," he replied nervously.

"Don't worry, man. I'll throw it real soft, okay?"

Blaine nodded but didn't respond. True to his word, Mr. Puck threw the ball lightly underhand, high enough to give Blaine time to see where it would land. The ball went up and arced back again, and Blaine repositioned himself slightly. As the ball started to fall closer, Blaine still made no attempt to raise his hands, though he was watching it carefully. Blaine saw Mr. Puck start towards him out of the corner of his eye, but his vision was quickly blocked by the football landing right on his good eye, bouncing off of his face and landing in the grass.

Blaine felt himself be grabbed, but he didn't look. He stood silently with his eye pressed closed, trying to keep it from watering. It stung, bad. He could hear Mr. Puck's voice in his right ear and he turned his head sharply to cover the damages side of his face. He felt completely blind now, but he knew from experience that he'd be able to open his left eye in a minute or two, and he was still used to trying to keep people away from the other side.

"I'm so sorry, man. I didn't mean to do that, I swear. I'm so, so, so sorry."

Blaine opened his eye a little and blinked. All the boys had crowded around him and were staring. He blinked again and Mr. Finn's face suddenly appeared very close to his.

"You okay, man?"

"Yes, Mr. Finn," he whispered, humiliated by the attention.

"Why didn't you catch it, or like, move, or something?"

"I didn't see it come down, sir."

"Oh my god Finnegan Hudson what did you do to him?"

Everyone winced as Kurt's shrill voice screeched at them. He ran to Blaine, pushing his stepbrother and friend away so that he could look closer at Blaine.

"I'm alright, Mr. Kurt," he started, but Kurt was having none of it.

"Did you hurt your eye? Were they making you play football? Did they tackle you? I told them not to, stupid boys, but they said they'd go easy on you and I still told them no but they don't listen and now you're hurt and oh my goodness it's bruising. Did you hit him?"

Kurt turned to glare angrily at Mr. Puck.

"Why are you looking at me? I didn't hit him, I swear! I just passed him the ball and he didn't catch it, it hit him in the face. It was an accident, I swear!"

Kurt alternated disapproving glares between all the boys before motioning to take Blaine inside.

"Come on, Blaine, I'll help you get cleaned up."

"I can help him. Don't worry, Kurt. I got a lot more experience with stuff like this than you do, and I'm the one who threw it at him, so I'll help him out."

Mr. Puck seemed to ignore the curious and confused stares of the others as he ushered Blaine inside the house. He immediately pushed him into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

"Don't want mamma Kurt comin' in here. He's nice and everything, but he's kind of intense sometimes. I got ya, don't worry." He pushed Blaine gently so that the boy was seated on the edge of the bathtub. Mr. Puck rummaged through the cupboard under the sink until he found the first aid kit he knew was under there. "You've just got a little cut right by your nose here. I'll clean it out and then we'll put some ice on it."

Blaine didn't say a word as Puck cleaned his eye. He was nervous being left alone with the stranger, but even though his hands weren't as gentle as Mrs. Carole's, he was clearly trying not to hurt Blaine. The boy caught him staring and smiled at him a little. He looked as nervous as Blaine felt.

"Thank you for helping me, sir," he said, forcing the words out of his mouth.

"No problem, man. I know that you don't really know me or anything, so thanks for trusting me to help you and stuff." They stayed silent for a few minutes before Mr. Puck spoke again. "You like living with the Hummel's, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Puckerman."

"You can just call me Puck. I know everyone tells you to drop the whole Mr. and sir thing, so I'm not gonna ask you not to do that if you don't want to, but it's just Puck, not Puckerman."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Puck."

Mr. Puck smiled softly at him.

"But you really do like them, right? Like, they're not mean to you or anything, they don't make you do stuff you don't want to, right?"

"That's right, Mr. Puck."

He looked relieved at Blaine's answer. He stared at the boy for a few moments, hesitation clear in his eyes before he took in a deep breath to speak

"Hey, Blaine – " he started, but was cut off by a loud pounding on the bathroom door.

"Noah Puckerman if you don't open this door and let me in right now I swear to Armani that I will call each and every one of your cougars and tell them that you have horrible diseases and I will continue to call them until someone calls your mother and lets her know what's really going on with your Ohio-based pool cleaning business. See if I'm bluffing, I dare you."

"Alright, okay. I'm opening the door now, keep your panties on." He rolled his eyes at Blaine as he unlocked the door. Kurt burst through with an ice pack in his hands, fussing loudly over Blaine while shooting Mr. Puck dirty looks.

Puck stared at Blaine as the boy's eye was covered with the ice pack. He barely registered the looks he was getting from Kurt as he focused on Blaine. After nearly a minute, Puck broke his stare and walked to the front door, leaving without a word to anyone.

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><p><strong>:D<strong>

**BananaBat18: tee hee! Gotta love sweet boy kisses. Thanks for the review!**

**Nurse Kate: Haha thanks, there'll definitely be more singing from Blaine!**

**Miss Olivia Cellophane: I figured we were overdue for some sweet moments, I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's almost like I had the Carrot/Kurt kiss planned...**

**Margarites: Thank you so much! I love making peeps cry! :D**

**Shananagains: I really appreciate that you gave this story a try. I know how it's not really everyone's cup of tea but I appreciate you for reading it! :D**

**Parmelde Lorntiere: Haha we'll be gooey messes together. I watched the deleted Klaine Christmas scene and I *diiiieeeeed* **

**mybrotherharry: Thank you, I hope you like where it ends up, too! :)**

**twostepper: Definitely better late, so we'll see what other childy things I can get Blaine to do that he'll enjoy.**

**iadorespike: I will try harder for your tears. I will get you to cry AND admit it. One day. 'Tis now my life goal. Thank you for giving me purpose in life.**

**blainescrys: SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I WILL DO BETTER for you. ;)**

**Cellowings: Thank you! We think you're cute, too.**

**CAStonehouse: You're perfect. So we're perfect together, born to be foreverrr! ...I should make Blaine dance! Muahahaha!**

**kurtcoblaine-klainetrain: He is totes adorbs (PS totes my new fave. phrase) but not as totes adorbs as you!**

**Kellz: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

**Klaine Fearella: Here's to hoping this Blaine isn't straight!**

**ekko230: Thank you!**

**Guestie! Thank you, I'm glad Teenage dream wasn't cheeseball-ic. That was defs a concern.**

**TwistedRocketPower: Thank you kindly!**

**KlainePotter: Oh man I've started using it at work and I got one of the girls to start too, so thank you, my penniless friend!**

**GleekOutKlaine! Even if you didn't review I know you read it and I appreciate you just the same! Sorry it took so long for the update, though! We'll get more Carole/Kurt bonding, and it will be brought up, but I wanted to set a few things up this chapter first.  
>Of course he loves his rabbit because Kurt got it for him, but I guess one must wonder how much he would love it it someone else had bought it for him... ;)<strong>

**Guestie! Thank you, I appreciate you very much!**

**Thaliana: I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and I hope you continue to enjoy it! That's a lot of reading to do in one go, so thanks for putting up with it :D**

**Guestie! Haha yeah, I made a stupid last chapter. I made a few stupids this one too, but I'm having a not-smart week so I didn't go looking for them, but they're there and I know they. Oops :( I'll make the next one super smart or something to make up for it.  
>I definitely agree with you not wanting them to get together for a while. I lose interest in a lot of stories when they rush the Klaine part so I don't think it makes you a bad shipper. Unless we're both bad shippers. We'll ship together. I'll be co-captain.<strong>

**musicbeyondmagic: haha can't get any better than bubbles and Disney! I'm glad you're happy with it, I should start writing more happy.**

**SarahLovesGlee: I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and I will make sure to add more fluff in the future so Blaine's not all sad all the time.**

**FriendlyFangirl11: You're going to suffer, but you're going to be happy about it. Eventually. You're allowed to be scared though, 'cause I am.  
>I'm so happy you liked that part, I didn't know how else to get them to like him instantly, and that seemed like a good idea :P<br>I think you might be thinking about TS 2 or 3, because those two do get a bit heavier, but the first is just Woody getting jealous and 'pushing' Buzz out of the window. The main reason I picked it though was to creep Blaine out at the thought that his rabbit might be talking when he's not there.**

**tastelessdays: I will allow you to cuddle, but I think there was a bit of a line, so you have to share. I'm so happy you like it, with a story like this it can definitely go either way, and all I can do is hope that you interpret it the way I intended, so I'm glad you're still reading!**

**Thank you all for being cray-cray awesome!**


	20. Chapter 20

**How fast was this! :D Impressed? You should be! **

**I was thinking about waiting to post this, but then I decided that waiting is for weenies.**

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><p>Blaine looked like he got into a really bad fight, or hadn't slept in a few years, or something like that. Puck hadn't really thrown the ball all that hard, and even after Kurt had literally thrown his biology textbook at his face with the chapter on depth perception bookmarked and highlighted, Finn still didn't get how Blaine didn't know the ball was going to hit him. The ball still looked like it was getting bigger, right? And it was right over his head. And gravity. <em>He<em> knew about all this stuff, so why didn't Blaine?

Puck must have felt really bad about it all, because he wouldn't leave Blaine alone. For the past few days Puck had been over at their house every day – sometimes he was already there when Finn got home from school. Kurt and Carole kept pushing him to ask Puck why he was there, but Finn didn't really get why. Blaine didn't seem to not like Puck, so that was kind of a win. But he was pretty quiet pretty much all of the time so then again Blaine might not say if he didn't like him. He'd asked Carole and Kurt if they thought that Blaine was secretly not liking Puck and if he was just being polite by following Puck around the house and giggling when Puck would do or say stupid things. They never answered him; all they did was stop asking him to interrogate Puck for a while. And then they'd start again.

Burt wasn't really saying anything about it at all, but he'd grunt and nod and stare at Puck when he'd wander in to the house and immediately go to Blaine, suggesting different movies they could watch or games they could play. The weirdest thing had been coming home from school one day to find Puck and Blaine playing a game of scrabble because Puck said he thought 'it looked like fun'. Which was really weird, because when Finn sat down to play with them it wasn't fun at all.

It was still kind of cool though, because Puck ended up starting board game night – which was actually every night. The best part was that Puck never let anyone keep score, so Kurt couldn't cheat. He always denied it, but Finn knew that was a lie, because there was no such thing as strategy in Monopoly, and that meant that there was no way that Kurt should win every time without cheating. Now when they played the person with the most money had to give some to whoever didn't have it, and Finn even got one of Kurt's railroads.

Finn guessed that Blaine did kind of look a little nervous when Puck first started hanging out with him, but Puck was being really cool and really not-Puck-like, so Blaine kind of relaxed a bit.

"Finn Hudson, seriously, what is he still doing here," Kurt hiss whispered in his ear. Finn jumped away from him because even though Kurt whispered, his voice still came out shrill and it _hurt_.

"Dude! Stop doing that, you're going to break my ear or something."

"I am serious, Finn. Puck has been here every day for the past five days. There is no way that he feels that bad about hitting Blaine with a football, so what's the deal."

"I dunno, man. Whadya want me to do, ask him?"

"Yes!"

Finn jumped again as Kurt and his mom answered simultaneously. Which was weird, because Finn didn't even know his mom had been listening.

"I can't do that, it's weird." Finn backed up as Kurt shot him a glare.

"No, Finn. What's weird is that one of my biggest former tormentors has suddenly flipped a switch and turned into a walking teddy bear who plays board games for fun."

Carole stepped fully into the room and rubbed Finn's shoulder soothingly.

"You have to admit that it is odd, Finn. I've known Noah since you two were little, and he's never acted like this before."

Finn frowned a bit, thinking hard.

"But – isn't it kind of awesome, then, that Puck's being nice now? And that Blaine's got a friend outside of us? I dunno, I kinda think that it's pretty cool that Blaine could have that effect on Puck, and that Puck actually really wants to hang out with Blaine. If I ask Puck about it, he might not do that anymore. I don't really want to do that."

Kurt huffed and stormed out of the room, but Carole stayed where she was.

"I think it's great too," she said, "but you have to admit that there is something a little odd about how Noah's been behaving."

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><p>"So what do you want to do today," Puck asked. Blaine stayed still, his head down. "Do you want to watch a movie? Play a game? Go outside?"<p>

Blaine sat up a little straighter when Puck said 'outside'. He grinned and ran to the front door, grabbing Blaine's slip-on shoes.

"These are cool, man. Red is an awesome colour."

Blaine smiled and whispered,

"Thank you, Mr. Puck."

"Hey, Hudmels! Blaine and I are gonna go walk around the block, we'll be back soon," he yelled, ushering Blaine out the door. They made it to the end of the driveway before Blaine stopped.

"This is okay with Mr. Burt," he asked, stepping back a little. Puck walked over to him and held his hand out to Blaine.

"Yep. We're just going around the block, we'll be gone less than fifteen minutes, I swear."

Blaine took his hand and Puck gently pulled him onto the sidewalk. They got a few odd looks from people passing by, but Puck ignored them. A few times Blaine tensed, and Puck seemed to pick up on this. Whenever Blaine reacted particularly badly, he'd start swinging their arms high in the air, causing Blaine to giggle.

They rounded the corner and ended up face to face with a park. Blaine stalled to watch the parents and children playing with each other. Before he could protest, Puck was dragging him by the hand towards the playground.

"You ever been to a park before, Blaine?"

"No sir."

"Dude, you're gonna love this."

The swing set was empty, so Puck brought him there first. They soon discovered that Blaine didn't like to go high, so as Puck tested the limits of his own swing, Blaine was content to sway as far as his firmly planted feet would allow him. He watched Puck jump off in horror, but giggled when his landing stuck, and he threw his arms into the air for the perfect finish.

"Puck!" The boy looked over Blaine's shoulder and grinned widely.

"Be right back, dude," he called as he sprinted behind Blaine. Blaine didn't look to see who had called him. He didn't recognize the voice, and Puck hadn't seemed to want him to leave. He sat on the swing for a few minutes before he felt a small hand pressed against his back.

Turning around, Blaine came face to face with a tiny blonde girl, no more than two years old. Blaine started to slide himself from his seat to kneel on the gravel, but the girl stopped him.

"No," she called, "I push you, I'll push you, okay?"

"O – okay, Miss."

The girl put her tiny hands on Blaine's back again and pushed as hard as she could, grunting from effort. Blaine pulled himself forward with his foot and earned a triumphant 'ha!' from the little girl. He made sure to be careful not to hit her as he came back down.

"I did it," she yelled happily.

"Thank you, Miss."

"Now it's my turn," she said, grabbing at the chain of Blaine's swing. She tugged herself up and shimmied until she was seated properly. "Okay, I'm ready now. You can push me."

"Okay, Miss."

Blaine placed his hands lightly on the chains and pushed them forward half a foot.

"No, no, no, you're doing it wrong! Do it like I did, you put your hand on my back and you push me really high, okay?"

"Um, okay, Miss."

Blaine hesitated. It was a direct order, but he still didn't know if he should do it. If Mr. Puck had given him the same order he would have done it without question, but a little girl…would her parents be angry? Blaine swallowed heavily. An order was an order. Blaine moved his shaking hand to place lightly on her back, pushing her forward gently just over a foot.

"Not high enough! Mommy, mommy! He's not doing it right!"

Blaine jumped back and fell to the ground in a full bow as the mother ran to her child.

"What did he do, baby?"

"I told him to push me but he's not doing it like you do. He's not pushing me high, he's doing it wrong, he's not good at this!"

"Beth! That is a mean, hurtful thing to say. I want you to apologize to him right now."

"But it's true!"

"Now, young lady."

Blaine heard a small sigh and was startled by a light tapping on his shoulder. Raising his head, his eye met the little girl's.

"I'm sorry I said you did it bad. You tried and that's what matters, right, Mommy?"

"That's right, pumpkin." The woman crouched down so that she was at their level. "Hi, Blaine. I'm Shelby, I'm a friend of Noah's."

Blaine blinked and looked at Puck, who gave him the thumbs up.

"Hello, Miss Shelby."

"Hi," she said softly, "I asked Noah if he'd be able to watch Beth for me for a while so I can go deal with a few things, and I was wondering if you'd like to help babysit?"

"I already called Carole, she's totally cool with it."

"Oh, okay, Miss."

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Blaine. I can take you home if you want."

"No, Mr. Puck, I will help."

"Are you sure? Only if you want to, okay, and I'll pay you both for your time."

Blaine nodded and Puck clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Beth-bee, you ready to have some fun with me and Blaine?"

"Ya," she called out.

"Thank you," Shelby said, "I don't know what's up with Quinn, but calling CPS was going too far. As soon as I'm done talking to her I'll come pick up Beth, okay?"

"No problem, Shelbs."

"Thank you boys so much. I'll see you soon, Beth." She kissed her daughter before waving to all of them as she left.

"C'mon, we can walk back to my house from here."

* * *

><p>Beth didn't like board games, so they played princesses instead. Puck's mom had taken his sister to her dance class, so he said that as long as she didn't know they had used her clothes she wouldn't mind. Beth took one of her tutus and made Blaine dress in one of Puck's old glee outfits. Beth had come to the conclusion that Blaine was a real life prince because the burn on his face was obviously a dragon burn, and if Blaine was fighting dragons it was definitely because he was a prince. Puck called dibs on being the dragon, and he and Beth wrestled on his bed. Blaine watched from his spot on the floor, even though Puck and Beth both begged him to join in.<p>

Eventually Beth slid to the floor and sat with Blaine.

"Read to me," she demanded, passing him one of her fairy-tale books. Blaine looked at Puck, who had come to sit with them as well.

"Alright, Miss." Beth crawled into his lap as he opened the book around her. "Jack and the Beanstalk?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Beth and Puck both chanted along with Blaine and the giant, and Beth helped Blaine understand the importance of changing his voice for each character.

When Shelby came to pick up Beth, Blaine was sad to see her go. He tried to say no when she handed him a ten dollar bill, but Puck took it, promising to give it to Burt so that they could explain why he was getting paid for what he did.

"Did you have fun," Puck asked when he shut the door. Blaine nodded and smiled a little.

"I did, sir, thank you." Puck smiled at him.

"You'd make a good dad, you know that, Blaine?"

"Thank you, sir." Blaine ducked his head as Puck continued to stare.

"Can I tell you a secret, Blaine?"

Blaine nodded and Puck beckoned for Blaine to follow him to his room, walking over to his bed and reaching under the mattress.

"You can't tell anyone, okay, Blaine?"

"I'm not supposed to lie, Mr. Puck."

"You wouldn't be lying, Blaine. They're not gonna ask you about it, I promise. I just…need to tell someone."

Blaine sat still as Puck found what he was looking for. He sat down next to Blaine again and handed him the small, worn photograph.

It was a picture of a woman and a man, both staring at the camera with stern gazes, and at their feet was a man, kneeling and expressionless and somewhat familiar looking. Puck pointed to the man.

"That's my dad," he said softly, "I tell everyone he walked out on me and my mom, but he didn't. He was an adoptive, like you."

Blaine stayed silent and stared at the picture. Puck continued.

"My mom only told me about him once, she doesn't know I have this picture. She said that he raped her, but I don't know. I mean, I don't know a lot of adoptives, but from the few I've seen and from getting to know you, I don't think that you ever could, right?"

"I don't like sex, Mr. Puck."

"But they used you for that, right?"

"Yes sir."

"But not Burt or Carole or any of them right?"

"Right sir."

Puck clapped Blaine lightly on his knee.

"And you wouldn't do that with them if you had the choice, right?"

"Right sir."

Blaine looked up as he heard a small sniff from Puck. He was staring at the photograph, trying to fight the tears that threatened to spill.

"They killed him," he whispered, "my mom never told me but I looked it up and that's what they do if an adoptive gets someone pregnant, or if an adoptive gets pregnant. Apparently having a kid messes with hormones or something and an adoptive just isn't the same after, so they can't use them anymore and they kill them."

Blaine hesitantly placed his hand on Puck's shoulder, rubbing it gently. The contact was as much for himself as it was for Puck. He couldn't think anymore.

It hurt too much.

* * *

><p>The two didn't speak much after Puck had told Blaine about his father, so they had decided to put on a movie. Puck chose 'the Fox and the Hound'.<p>

"I'll deny it if you tell anyone, but I kind of need a good cry."

They sat on the floor together, and Blaine tried to hold Puck the same way Burt had held him, but Puck had just laughed at him and told him not to worry about him. They sat shoulder to shoulder instead. When Burt and Finn came to drop off Puck's jeep and take Blaine home, Blaine gave Puck a quick hand pat before getting into the truck.

"So, kid, you have fun with Puck?"

"I like Mr. Puck, Mr. Burt," he answered.

"What did you kids do?"

Blaine told him, but he left out the part about Puck's father because Puck had made him promise to keep it a secret.

And that's what friends do; they keep their promises.

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><p><strong>:D<strong>

**Fly Away Dreams: Aww, thank you, I'm glad you like the Puck/Blaine friendship!**

**SarahLovesGlee: Don't worry, there shall be Blangst! We're just taking a little break from hurting Blaine for now, but I'll get back on that soon.**

**mirvly: hehehe thank you! I hope that this chapter helps ease the suspense!**

**iadorespike: Meh, I'm still going to take it as one, just because I can :) Don't worry, we'll get some super happy Blaine coming up sometime soon.**

**musicbeyondmagic: I hope the explanation for Puck was good enough! :D**

**Nurse Kate: Kurt is really growing on me. I haven't had a POV for him yet, so maybe I'll have to do that soon. I hadn't even thought about Beth as the adoptive, and I totally loved that idea, but I really wanted Blaine to meet her too.**

**matchbookjealousy: NO PROBSKIES! You review if you want and when you want, I will love and appreciate you just the same! I'm so happy you like it, and that the whole family thing is coming together. :)**

**cellowings: Nope, Puck's just being friendly! I'm glad it made you nervous though, because I didn't want it to be super obvious what was going to happen.**

**blainescrys: You don't have to wait, here it is! :D**

**mybrotherharry: Not so much poor Blaine this chapter, but poor Puck! Hope you liked it!**

**Guestie! Thank you so much, I'm so happy that you like Blaine. He's not really canon at all, but I hope I can fix that soon!**

**OMGRedVines: Oh man I hate it when you're waiting for a fic and it doesn't update. I know people have lives, but I feel your pain. So this is me making up for making you wait for so long!**

**Thanks to everyone again, you're all sosupersexyawesome!**


	21. Chapter 21

**:D Good morning, troops! Hope you enjoy our chapter of the day. PS, HAPPY SUNDAY (aka my Friday) :D :D :D :D**

**PPS, HUGE thanks to GleekOutKlaine for her awesome and amazing idea that y'all'll see below. **

**Happy Reading!**

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><p>"What do you think about starting work on Monday," Burt asked the next morning at breakfast. Blaine looked up from his spot on the floor and swallowed his mouthful of cheerios painfully fast. A small drop of milk clung to his lower lip, but the boy took no notice.<p>

"Two days, Mr. Burt?"

"Yep, two days from now. If it's too soon you can say, an' you can stay home for another few days if you want."

Blaine seemed to ponder this for a moment while Burt watched the thinking boy fondly. He'd been with them just over a week, and already Burt couldn't believe the changes that he could see in him. It wasn't anything big: he still called them Mr. and Mrs., he still sat on the floor, he didn't seem to understand or believe them when they told him he didn't have to clean (honestly, Burt was surprised that none of them had passed out from the amount of fumes from the cleaning supplies. Carole had had to open all the windows by the second day – Blaine had literally cleaned every corner) and once he figured out that he could leave his room without permission he had started waking up early to make breakfast every day, but he still seemed different. Blaine would always say yes when asked to do something, but he'd quickly learned that if he hesitated before he answered, they wouldn't make him do it. Blaine did not like washing dishes, but he liked drying them. Blaine did not like having someone wash his hair for him, but he did like baths. Blaine liked listening to music, but he beyond hated rap and metal. Finn and Puck had been playing different types of music for Blaine to see what he liked, but as soon as a "too loud" song came on, Blaine would flinch heavily, jerking just his torso until he was facing as far away from the speakers as he could without his legs shifting from their spot on the carpet.

"Are you going to work today, Mr. Burt," Blaine asked before he licked at the milk that had started to drip down his chin.

"Yep," Burt responded, grabbing a napkin and reaching down to wipe Blaine's face. The boy leaned into the touch without hesitation. Another change they had noticed: he was starting to trust them more.

"May I come with you today please, Mr. Burt?"

Burt sat back, surprised by the question. Whenever Blaine didn't answer right away it usually meant no. Was he saying what he thought he was supposed to?

"You really don't have to if you're not ready, sweetheart. If you want you can stay here. Finn's going out with the boys to play football, but Kurt and I will still be here if you want to play a game with us."

"Yeah, and I'll totally bring Puck back with me if you want. Unless you're like, sick of him or something."

"I like Mr. Puck, Mr. Finn," Blaine answered, the smallest trace of annoyance in his voice. Burt wasn't much surprised by that: they had all been bugging him about his friendship with Puckerman, but all they wanted was to make sure it was a mutual friendship and not something he felt forced into. Blaine turned back to Burt. "I'd like to go to work with you please, Mr. Burt. I'd like to learn my work."

"Okay," Burt said. The other three shot him a look but he ignored them. Blaine said he wanted to go, that he would _like_ to go. Blaine never admitted to wanting or liking anything. Bad parenting or not, Blaine could have said he wanted a puppy and Burt would have brought home an entire litter, he was just happy that Blaine was trying to stand his ground, even if he looked a little shaken after Carole and Finn hadn't been too sure about his decision.

"Thank you, Mr. Burt," Blaine said quietly.

They finished eating in relative silence. Burt could feel the nervousness radiating off of Blaine from a foot away, and did his best to calm the boy's nerves.

"You wanna try some bacon, Blaine? It's heart healthy and Kurt approved." Even though Blaine had made breakfast, he refused to eat anything he had made himself. For a brief moment Burt had thought that maybe Blaine was going to try to poison them, but he just had to look at the boy again to realize how idiotic his thought had been. It also hadn't helped that Finn had murmured the same thought not even a minute later, earning himself a harsh slap from Kurt. Finn had tried to back himself up by stating how odd it was that Blaine only used the inside of the oven to cook everything, even the eggs, and maybe it did something weird to the food. Kurt just slapped him again.

Blaine nodded and opened his mouth, allowing Burt to slip the food inside. Blaine wouldn't take a plate, but he never said no if someone wanted to share. The boy chewed for a moment before giving Burt his signature half-smile. Burt offered him another strip before he moved on to sharing the eggs and hash browns that he was 'just too full for'.

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><p>Stepping into the shop for the second time, Blaine was met with an overwhelming sense of dread. He had wanted to prove to his keepers that he could be useful, and he had thought that cleaning would help until he had heard Mr. Finn complaining to Mr. Kurt about the smell.<p>

"_Dude, I dunno what he used, but it smells like that time I dropped a whole bottle of Pine-Sol in my mom's room. She slept on the couch for like a week, man."_

"_I can't believe _you_ made a mess and yet _your mother_ was the one who had to sleep on the couch."_

"_I can't help it if my feet stick of the edge," Mr. Finn countered looking down at his feet._

"_How old were you?"_

"_Doesn't matter."_

"_Just think of how much dust and dirt Blaine got rid of, okay? We'll smell this for a day or two but our lungs will benefit from this forever."_

"_You're just saying that because you can't smell it."_

"_What do you mean, I can't smell it, of course I can smell it."_

"_Nope, you can't. Your room smells almost the same, Kurt, except instead of forest fresh your room smells like hairspray and burning and it killed your nose and now you can't smell anything."_

"_It's called incense, you idiot, and it did not, 'kill my nose' I'll have you know that – "_

Blaine had walked away after that. He had wanted to help, but he didn't want to be the one to kill Mr. Finn's nose, either. Trying again had seemed like the good thing to do. Mr. Burt had gone to check the messages again, just as he had done the first day. Blaine stood with his paper bagged lunch clutched in one hand and his rabbit held tightly in the other. It felt odd to hold Carrot through the plastic bag Mrs. Carole had put him in, but after she had assured him that he would be okay in there and that it was so that he could bring him to work and still have him for bed at night without giving his eye or face an infection he agreed. Mrs. Carole always made sure that whenever Blaine had gone outside or did any cleaning or cooking that his eye was always covered and clean and that his face wasn't getting dirt in it. It was starting to scab more around the edges, turning it a dark orange colour, which Mrs. Carole had assured him was a good sign. Now that the shine was starting to fade, the Hummels had found that they began to notice it less and less – or they were just becoming more used to him.

"C'mere, Blaine."

Blaine walked quickly towards his keeper. As he entered the room he was immediately instructed to sit, and he did so without question.

"Yes, sir?"

"Look, Blaine, I know we haven't really talked about what happened last time you were here, so I just wanted to apologize for pushing you into something that you weren't ready for. You went through a really big change really fast – hell, you're still going through it. I'm just sorry that I didn't give you any time to adjust to that before throwing you in here. I want you to know that no matter what, you are always allowed to say if you aren't comfortable doing something, or even if you just don't want to do it. Always, always, always. I know I'm starting to sound a bit repetitive with this, but it's important, bud. It's really important that you listen to you. If your mind doesn't wanna do something, or your body, or your heart – you gotta listen to that. You've gotta listen to you, okay?"

Blaine didn't move throughout the speech, but his lower jaw shifted back and forth as he chewed his lower lip: a sign he had been listening. He nodded slowly.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now, when you went to school at the home, how did they teach you?" Blaine stiffened at this, causing the older man to quickly alter his statement. "I'm just trying to figure out how you learn, Blaine. Like, when you learned how to cook, did someone give you a recipe, tell you how to do it, did you watch one of those cooking shows, or did you start out trying to make stuff hands on. What worked best for you, Blaine?"

The boy thought for a moment before looking at Burt's shoes.

"They didn't show us, and we weren't allowed to do anything before we knew how to do it."

"So written or verbal, which did you like better?"

"I like both, Mr. Burt. I like hearing, but I like seeing if I forget."

Burt leaned forward and placed his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Well, Kurt made you some diagrams and instructions and stuff if you liked reading better, but if you'd like it better if I talk you through how to do things you can always come ask me if you forget or if something doesn't make sense, and I'll give you his stuff anyway just in case you want it."

Blaine smiled and nodded before following Burt out to the garage to start his work.

* * *

><p>The following Friday found Kurt irritated and annoyed. Two slushies to the face, one down the back, and a record of four locker shoves immediately secured it as the worst Friday in public school history. Puck and Finn had decided to try double dating (<em>'it'll be totally not gay – not that there's anything wrong with that, or anything'<em>) so Kurt had to endure the fifteen minute car ride home stuck between Rachel Berry and Lauren Zizis. Five minutes in, Kurt was trying to imagine if it would be at all possible to shut up Zizis by shoving Berry down her throat, effectively killing two screaming gulls with one stone, when he saw his father's truck still at the garage.

"Stop the car," he shrieked, silencing both girls instantly. Puck's jeep had barely pulled into the parking lot before Kurt was violently elbowing Rachel into letting go of the door long enough for him to open it and jump only semi-ungracefully out. He waved over his shoulder as he ran towards the shop, eager to leave the sound of Rachel Berry's voice far behind.

Pulling open the door, Kurt slipped inside quietly. The shop was already closed, and Blaine wouldn't be expecting anyone to be coming in. The last thing Kurt wanted to do was startle the boy into losing a limb. Kurt wandered further in, following the sound of the radio. Burt had left the radio on from the first day Blaine had come back, and on the second Blaine had chosen a top 40 station he liked, and they had been listening to that non-stop.

"_I swear,"_ Burt had said coming home on the fourth day, _"they play the same sixteen songs over and_ _over. Even I've started singing along to some of them."_

Kurt grinned as he heard Blaine's soft voice coming from the other side of the shop. He crept closer and saw Blaine wiping the tool counter, carefully lifting Carrot to wipe underneath as his hips swayed lightly to the music. Blaine's feet shuffled in a slow side step with a very Finn-like awkwardness, but he somehow made it look endearing. Maybe it was because whenever Finn danced he always looked uncomfortable and self-conscious. Blaine was naturally awkward. This was just him being him.

"The way you can cut a rug,  
>Watching you's the only drug I need.<br>So gangster, I'm so thug,  
>You're the only one I'm dreaming of you see.<br>I can be myself now finally,  
>In fact there's nothing I can't be,<br>I want the world to see you be, with me, "

Kurt fought a giggle as he watched Blaine singing to Carrot. He'd missed the first half of the song, but he picked up a quiet harmony in the background too soft for Blaine to hear. He swayed in place, fighting the urge to get too into the song and take over. This was Blaine's solo, and today Kurt was perfectly content being his backup.

"Hey, Soul Sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you dooooo...  
>Tonight.<br>Heeey, Heeeeey, Heeeeeey, tonight.  
>Heeey, Heeeeey, Heeeeeey.<br>Tonight."

Blaine finished with a small bow to Carrot before picking up the toy. From his office, Burt clapped loudly.

"Soundin' good, kid. You're gonna end up giving the other boys a run for their money with that voice."

Blaine beamed with delight as he pulled the rabbit close to his body and called out a quiet thank you. Turning his head, Blaine let out a small giggle, scrunching his face and touching his nose lightly to Carrot's through the clear plastic bag. Kurt backed up quietly until he reached the door. He opened it as carefully as he could before pushing it heavily closed with a loud 'bang'.

"Kurt, that you, sport? What're you doing here?"

"Hello, Dad. Hello, Blaine. I was on my way to be a part of a wonderful fifth wheel experience when I heard the most amazing voice coming out of the garage, and I just had to come in to see who it was."

Kurt winked at Blaine, who blushed and lowered his head.

"That was Blaine," Burt yelled, causing Kurt to snort.

"Yes, Dad, thank you. I know," he called back. Blaine giggled again.

"Thank you, Mr. Kurt," he said softly. Kurt closed the gap between them and nudged him with his shoulder.

"You're welcome, Mr. Blaine." Blaine started slightly and looked at Kurt curiously before bowing his head to his toy, stroking the fur gently. Kurt grinned and poked Blaine lightly in the shoulder.

"Mr. Kurt," Blaine asked, looking up.

"Are you alright, Mr. Blaine?"

Blaine bit his lip and lowered his head again, clutching his rabbit tighter. He snuck a peek back up at Kurt, narrowing his eye at the other boy's chin. Kurt's grin widened as Blaine continued to glare. Smiling brightly, Kurt skipped into his father's office. Every few seconds he poked his head out of the door before leaning in again. Blaine heard Burt laugh and within seconds Kurt was skipping out again, heading straight over to Blaine and linking their arms together. Burt followed, stopping to turn off the radio before he approached them both, clapping Blaine on the shoulder.

"You ready to go, Mr. Blaine," Burt asked with a smile. Blaine jerked his head quickly to glare at Kurt, who was trying to fight off a smile. Blaine sniffed and raised his nose slightly, pulling his arm from Kurt's and wrapping it around his rabbit again and pushing past them, walking quickly to the truck.

"Think he's mad," Kurt asked, smile fading as Blaine pulled the truck door open. Burt shrugged, and then laughed.

"I think he'll get over it."

Reaching the truck, Kurt looked up to see Blaine sitting in the passenger seat with Carrot securely in his lap, seatbelt on.

"Blaine, you know that if you want the front seat you have to let me get in first, right?"

Blaine said nothing. Placing his hand on Carrot's head he twisted it until it was looking at Kurt. Blaine followed suit and shot Kurt a satisfied smirk, leaning back to give Kurt more room to climb over him.

"Oh ha, ha," Kurt said humorously as he stepped up into the truck. He could hear his father laughing as he tried to maneuver himself over Blaine without bumping him too much, but at Blaine's breathy laugh he didn't think he'd mind. Burt started the truck and with a low rumble he started to back up slowly.

"Dad," Kurt shouted as he stumbled, falling on top of Blaine, who was now laughing loudly. Blaine's arms shot up to catch him, and Kurt used one hand to steady himself on Blaine's chest.

"Would you like the front seat, Mr. Kurt," Blaine asked smiling.

Kurt made a face at Blaine, sticking his tongue out childishly.

"That's alright, Mr. Blaine. You and your rabbit enjoy the safety of seatbelts. Don't mind me, I'll just be flopping around back here."

Kurt made his way to the back and sat down. Blaine turned around to grin at Kurt, and he couldn't help but smile back at him.

_Yeah, today had been a pretty bad day, but it was getting better._

Blaine's tongue darted out to Kurt for the briefest moment, causing Kurt to snort and Blaine to blush, immediately hiding his face in his rabbit.

_Yep. Things were definitely improving._

* * *

><p><strong>**Again, thank you to GeekOutKlaine for the idea to have Kurt + others call Blaine 'Mr. Blaine'. I think it's a super crazy awesome idea, so thank you for that :D!**<strong>

**Before we go into review response, I'm going to explain why I killed Puck's father. It wasn't planned, and I think it's because of that that it feels so.. unsettling...to me, at least.**

**People change when they become parents. I know that everything that happens to us in our lives shapes who we end up being as people, but having a kid means you aren't the most important person in your life anymore. My reasoning behind them being killed is that once an adoptive becomes a parent, they now have something in their lives that is more important than their keepers. Even if the parent never sees their kid again, they're not stable anymore. There's always that chance that they'll disobey because they thought they'd seen someone who looks like their child. A desperate parent is a terrifying thing, and in this world it's not worth the risk.**

**Puck's alive and free because his mother is free. It's up to the free person to decide whether or not to keep the child, get rid of it, or make it an adoptive. His mother didn't want to go through the embarrassment of admitting she was pregnant via adoptive, so she kept Puck.**

**As for any type of affection involved: let's get cray cray and think of adoptives as cell phones. You have them in your life to help assist you with work, or to sort out your social life by helping to organize and prep for events, etc. You can download the vibrator app, but that's not what you initially bought it for, you're not going to tell your friends you use it for that, and, at the end of the day as far as emotion is concerned: it's still just a phone.**

**Depresspants, I know, but if anyone was confused at all I hope that cleared it up a bit. If not feel free to message or let me know in an anonymous review or something.**

**mirvly: Ahh! I didn't actually mean to make anyone cry that chapter...oops :(**

**matchbookjealousy: Don't worry, I totally got what you were saying :D**

**OMGRedVines: Thank you! For someone with nothing to say you wrote me a lovely review, thanks!**

**blainescrys: More like besties! I appreciate your emotional investment very much, thanks!**

**Fly Away Dreams: Tee hee, thank you very much, I'm glad you thought it was cute :D**

**forgettheworld: Thanks you! Sorry I made Puck's dad so sad D:**

**Kellz: Oh my goodness thank you so very much, that's high praise and I really appreciate it :D. Yes, Blaine was given basic education at the home, it might be too frustrating for some people to have someone who can't read, write, or do basic math so I thought education was kind of important. Haha no, I doubt his previous keepers would have had the patience to teach him anything. Thanks again!**

**cellowings: Haha I'm glad I kept you guessing, as predictable as I can be when I write I like the surprise parts to stay surprises :P**

**Miss Olivia Cellophane: Yeah, I did some kind of mean things to him... :( But hopefully Blaine getting more playful makes up for that a bit!**

**raem9898: Who doesn't love friends! And thank you, I'm a big Blaine/Burt fan myself (obvs.) so I'm glad you like this.**

**JennMel: D: I honestly didn't write the last one with the intention to make anyone cry, but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. OoOOps, sorry! :D**

**Nurse Kate: Aww, thank you so much, your reviews always make me smile. Considering the number of things that change as I'm writing I'm really glad that you're getting all the stuff I'm trying to get out. One day I'm going to post the story I sat down to write when I wrote this. How it came to be, I'll never really know :P**

**Guestie! I'm sorry I made you cry, I'll fix that! I'll give Blaine more friends or something :)**

**KlainePotter: Hehe thank you, I'm glad it makes sense!**  
><strong>As far as a conscious effort goes, I haven't been basing this off of anything historical based on the fact that I would feel so horrible if I did and unintentionally offended someone. (I answered your other questions at the top of my responses, 'cause I got the feeling you weren't the only one who wanted more of an explanation :D)<strong>

**klainer-1: :{D (mine has a moustache)**

**musicbeyondmagic: Haha thank you, I re-explained anyway 'cause I got paranoid, but I appreciate the reassurance :D**

**mybrotherharry: Thank you kindly! :)**

**Guestie! Teehee thank you! Don't worry, we'll get to the feels...sometime. :D**

**crazypianoman2194: I'm glad you think so too! I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!**

**FireAngel5683: I know, I'm sorry. But them being friends is cool, right?! We'll give them some more friend time and that'll make it all better.**

**TuuzMB: Thank you very much! I hope this quick updating thing can become a habit (I probably jinxed myself now :O)**

**Thanks again, everyone! You are ALL much loved and appreciated!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Ughh I'm such a doucheface, I'm sorry.**

* * *

><p>'<em>Not allowed not allowed stop it stop it not allowed stop not allowed STOP.'<em>

Blaine wasn't annoyed. At least, he was trying not to be annoyed.

Ever since Kurt had begun calling him 'Mr. Blaine' the rest of the family had started too. Blaine had thought it was funny at first. Mr. Kurt was teasing. Teasing was okay as long as it was nice teasing, Mrs. Carole had told him when he had first become friends with Mr. Puck, but this wasn't nice teasing anymore. Mrs. Carole had told him why they changed his name, and he didn't like it one bit.

"_You're a part of this family, Mr. Blaine," she had started, tapping his nose with her finger, "and in this family we treat everyone the same no matter what."_

She had used more words too, but Blaine hadn't needed further explanation.

Blaine knew that he was a part of the family. He was their adoptive, they were his keepers. Everyone had a role, and he knew his. His place in the family was to keep them happy, to make their lives easier so they could enjoy being free. Blaine wasn't free. Yes, he was a part of the family, but no, he didn't agree that he should be treated the same. Had his keepers left things after they had changed his name again he wouldn't have minded, but they started to change more. Like during dinner the night before.

"_Dinner smells delicious, Carole," Kurt had said as he filled his bowl with pasta._

"_Mr. Blaine helped too, he chopped the basil. Right honey?"_

"_Yes, Mrs. Carole," he replied happily. Finn ran in a moment later and immediately grabbed another fork so that he could fill his bowl at the same time as Kurt._

"_You gonna sit in a chair today, Mr. Blaine," Burt asked. The boy shook his head._

"_No thank you sir." _

_Burt nodded and took Finn and Kurt's bowls from them. The two boys then squeezed past Blaine, each making their way to an opposite side of the kitchen table. They lifted it easily before maneuvering it sideways and out the door. When they re-entered the kitchen, Blaine saw that they had taken four of the couch cushions with them and placed them on the floor in a circle, readjusting them so that they were evenly spaced and included Blaine's own cushion that Carole had insisted he use._

"_Mr. Kurt, Mr. Finn," Blaine asked cautiously. This was different. He didn't like it. _

"_Mr. Blaine,"_

"_Blaine. Oh, shoot. I mean Mr. Blaine," they answered simultaneously. Blaine bit his lip and frowned as Burt gave them back their food. The three of them sat down, leaving Blaine and Carole standing. Carole handed Blaine an empty bowl along with a fork. Blaine wasn't allowed to take his own food. He didn't like this either. Confused, the boy turned and sat down on his pillow, empty bowl in hand._

"_Mr. Blaine, it's dinner time. You need to eat," Carole said gently. Blaine clutched his bowl tighter in his arms, but he said nothing. With a sigh, Carole picked up the pot and set it down in between all of them before taking her own bowl from the counter and starting to eat with the others. "It's there when you want it, sweetheart. You can have as much as you like but you have to get it yourself. I can't keep getting your food for you, I don't know how much you want."_

_Blaine sat with his empty bowl while the family ate. Finn was half way through seconds when Carole put her foot down._

"_Honey, you need to eat, and you need to get your food. Now, I want you to take at least two big forkfuls, okay? If you want more you can have it, but that is the minimum, alright?" Blaine stiffened at her stern tone, but he remained still. He didn't like this. He wasn't supposed to do this. Getting his own food was not allowed. It was never allowed. His keeper knew how much he should eat so that he was healthy but not greedy. Blaine didn't know, had no way of knowing. If he took his own he would get into trouble. "Blaine, I'm going to count to three."_

_If he didn't take it he would get into trouble. _

"_One… two…."_

_Blaine grabbed his fork and leaned towards the bowl. He hesitantly lowered his fork into the pot, biting his lip and looking to Carole. She nodded encouragingly, and Blaine scooped a small amount up onto his fork._

"_More, please," Carole said, looking disapprovingly at Blaine. She continued to shake her head at him until Blaine had managed to grab a small mound. "Good boy. One more, please." _

_Blaine frowned grumpily at his food. He did not like this. Yes, his keeper had told him what to take, but he didn't like it. She spoke like she thought he should know what to eat and he didn't. How could he? He had no way to know. Yes, sometimes his stomach would hurt and he _knew_ he was hungry, but that didn't mean he should eat. It meant he wasn't working hard enough. It meant he hadn't earned it yet. His keepers knew when he needed to be fed and how much to feed him; that's why they were his keepers. They knew. He wasn't allowed to get his own food. He couldn't do it himself. He wasn't supposed to. So why were his keepers making him do something he wasn't supposed to? _

_Not. Allowed. _

"_One."_

'Never eat unless you are fed. Always sit below your keepers. Never make a decision. Always do what you're told.'

"_Two._

"Always yes sir, no ma'am. Don't think. Just do. Don't speak. Just listen. Do what you're told. Not what you think."

_It didn't make sense._

"_Don't make me get to three, Blaine."_

"_Or what?"_

_Blaine's heart stopped as he heard the words leave his mouth._

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Or what," Blaine repeated, "what does three mean, Mrs. Carole?"_

_He didn't know where the words were coming from. He had never spoken to anyone with such disrespect before. Blaine vibrated with a sudden burst of energy that seemed to come from nowhere. He didn't know why he had said what he had, but he did. And even though his heart was racing fast, he felt a rush of power flood over him. It felt so good and made him feel so…almost…_

"_Blaine, look at me please."_

"_You can't hit me," Blaine said as he sat slightly straighter. His mind rushed but his thoughts weren't clear. He felt bigger. _

"_I-I'm sorry?"_

"_You can't hit me. Mr. Burt said. Three doesn't mean anything Mrs. Carole because you can't hit me. Mr. Burt said. You're not allowed."_

"_Blaine, honey," Carole reached forward reassuringly to Blaine, but he swatted her hand away._

"_Not allowed," he yelled, startling everyone. The boy scooted himself back and off of his pillow until he had backed all the way into the wall. "Not allowed."_

"_Blaine, honey, I would never hit you. None of us would ever hit you – " _

_Carole was cut off as Blaine aimed a sharp kick in her direction._

"_NOT ALLOWED!"_

_Burt was on his feet in seconds. _

"_Blaine, come here."_

"_No."_

"_Blaine, now."_

"_NO!" The rush Blaine had felt was quickly leaving him. Blaine's heart was still racing, but the power he had felt was gone. He had broken rules. Now he was just afraid. Eyeing the door, Blaine jumped up and pushed himself past Burt and was out of the kitchen door before Burt could even acknowledge that Blaine was moving._

"_Woah, he's fast," Finn commented. A crash was heard as Blaine tripped down the stairs. Burt and Carole ran after him. Finn and Kurt made to follow, but after a stern glare from Burt they stayed back._

"_Blaine, honey, are you alright," Carole called as she reached the stairs._

"_Not allowed in my room," he yelled back. From the hallway they could hear the sound of something scraping across the floor. Blaine was blocking his door._

"_Blaine, open the door, please."_

"_No!"_

"_Blaine, we need to talk to you. Open the door now."_

"_NO!"_

_Carole placed her hand gently on Burt's shoulder. _

"_Burt, maybe we should give him some time to calm down. He'll come out on his own eventually."_

"_Carole, he attacked you."_

"_I think maybe we've been pushing him too hard. He's stressed, and I don't think he knows how to handle his feelings. Let's give him a little space and he'll come upstairs when he wants to. We can talk to him then, Burt."_

"_He can't just lash out at you because he's stressed, Carole. Blaine, open this door now!"_

_More shuffling was heard inside, and another scraping sound signaled that Blaine was now moving his dresser._

"_He doesn't understand, Burt. Give him some time to think about how he acted. You know him, if you give him time to calm down and think he'll know that what he did was wrong. He'll come upstairs when he's ready to apologize. He doesn't like upsetting anyone, and once he's thought about it he'll come upstairs and we can talk to him then."_

And that led to the next morning with Blaine sitting on the floor of his room, back pressed against his dresser in complete and utter confusion. He hadn't slept at all throughout the night. Every sound he heard had made him jump and twitch in fright. His keepers were coming to get him. They were angry with him. They were annoyed that he wasn't learning like he should. Blaine didn't know why he had said what he did, or why he had attacked his keeper. That was bad. He was bad.

But they hadn't come for him. After Mr. Burt had yelled they had left him alone. He could hear them walking upstairs but no one came down to him again.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. He had to pee. He whined quietly as he tensed his body, hoping that he could ignore the sensation, but he couldn't. Blaine hesitated before he started to rise slowly. He wanted to be as quiet as possible so that his keepers wouldn't hear him, but as soon as he stood up that option became impossible. Blaine _really_ had to pee. He winced as he shoved the dresser hard, causing it to squeal loudly against the floor. The bed moved easier, But as soon as the door was unblocked he squeezed himself through it and practically sprinted to the bathroom, stumbling as his foot caught on the rug. He grabbed the frame and swung himself inside, slamming the door behind him. If his keepers hadn't known he was out before they would now. There was no way he could escape them, he had to apologize.

Blaine slunk up the stairs slowly. He could hear his keepers speaking, and he knew that when he reached the top he would know just how mad they were. As he stepped into the living room, Blaine kept his head bowed and instantly sunk to his knees. The talking stopped. Blaine stayed where he was on the floor and pressed his forehead to the ground. No one spoke.

Blaine shuffled forward on his knees until Carole's foot came into view. Shaking slightly, Blaine reached forward and rested his hand lightly over her foot. He stroked it softly with his fingertips.

He couldn't speak. He didn't know what to say.

Beside them he could hear Burt stand and he tensed, stopping his hand. When his keeper remained still, he lowered his head onto Carole's foot, resting his forehead on her toes. His hand started to stroke again.

'_I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry.'_

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a quiet whimper.

'_I made a mistake. I was bad. I will never do it again. I'm sorry.'_

Blaine nuzzled his head closer into his keeper's foot, sniffing lightly. When had he started crying?

He felt her hand in his hair and lifted his head, pushing into her touch. He wanted her to hurt him, but he didn't want her to stop touching. He wanted her to yell, but he missed her soft voice. He wanted to feel the pain he had almost caused her, to have her kick and scream and push and scare him and _hurt him_.

He wanted to be punished. Once he was punished, she would forgive him.

She had to, right?

"Blaine, I want to apologize."

'_Wait, what?'_

Blaine raised his head in shock, staring at her stomach.

"Mrs. Carole?"

"We were pushing you, Blaine. We wanted you to feel accepted here and we thought that calling you Mr. Blaine and having you make your own decisions and get your own food would help you realize that we see you as a member of the family. Maybe we went about it a little wrong or a little fast, and for that I'm sorry.

"However, you need to learn to use your words, Blaine. If you're upset you need to tell us before you get angry. If we do something you don't like, you tell us right away. You don't even need to have a reason. If you need to, just tell us you need some time to calm down. You can take as much time as you need by yourself to think about what's upsetting you and why it's upsetting you, and when you calm down you can come back and you can tell us. Does that sound fair to you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Carole."

"Good. Now I think you owe me an apology."

Blaine nodded and bent forward again. His keeper's hand stopped him, and she raised his chin until they were eye to eye.

"Look at me, please. Whenever you apologize to someone you have to look at them, otherwise it doesn't look like you mean it."

"M'sorry, Mrs. Carole. I do mean it, I do."

"What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry for getting angry and attacking you and yelling. I won't do it again, Mrs. Carole."

She smiled at him, and Blaine returned it weakly.

"Thank you, Blaine. I accept your apology."

"Now, about your punishment."

Blaine's blood ran cold at the words. He knew that they had been too calm. Too accepting.

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

"You're not coming to work tomorrow. You're gonna stay here, and you're not allowed to clean, either."

Blaine gawked at the man.

"Mr. Burt! But… wh – what will I do?"

"Beats me, kid. But whatever you do, it better not involve any type of working or else you'll be here for more than a day."

Blaine shot a look at Carole, then turned back to Burt.

"I – I could take the pill again, sir," he pleaded. Burt furrowed his brow and looked at Carole.

"Pill? What pill, Blaine?"

"The white chewing one, sir. From the car. I could take that, sir. I could chew it at work all day, b-but I could work, Mr. Burt."

Burt looked even more lost as he wracked his brain trying to think about what Blaine was referring to. Suddenly his face went blank.

"You mean gum, Blaine? Like what I gave you on your first day at the shop?"

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. As much as he had hated that punishment, he knew that it would be better that being useless for a day.

"Yes, Mr. Burt. The one you gave me for not brushing my teeth, sir. I've always brushed since then, sir. I always do, see?"

Blaine scrambled over towards Burt, placing his hands on the man's thighs before leaning in and opening his mouth as wide as he could, thrusting his head back as far as it could go.

"You've been doing good, Blaine," Burt praised, running his hand through the back of Blaine's hair to coax the boy's head up again, "I'm really proud of you, but the gum wasn't supposed to be a punishment. I didn't know you didn't like it, I'm sorry, kid."

Blaine smiled and leaned his body forward, putting more weight on his keeper's legs.

"But it worked, Mr. Burt, sir. I've been better. You could give it to me again and I wouldn't be bad again, sir."

Blaine was nodding enthusiastically from his place in Burt's lap, happy to have found a good punishment for himself.

"I'm sorry, buddy. You're still gonna stay here tomorrow. You've gotta learn to deal with those feelings of yours, and I really can't handle an angsty teenager in my shop. You take tomorrow to calm down, and we'll see how it goes from there, okay?"

Blaine pouted, deflating slightly. He crawled down from Burt's lap and placed his hands on the floor, his body drooping sadly.

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

"You're a good kid, Mr. Blaine."

Blaine shot Burt a glare, causing the older man to laugh before he tousled his hair and stood. Blaine tried to fight off a grin, but failed miserably. Carole leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

"I agree with Mr. Burt. You are a wonderful kid, Mr. Blaine."

"You're good keepers, Burt and Carole," Blaine said with a sly grin before jumping up and going back down the stairs to his room to retrieve his rabbit.

Carole and Burt stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"Y'think he just said that to try an' piss us off," Burt asked uncertainly. Carole smiled and took his hand.

"Probably, but it was nice to hear it either way."

* * *

><p><strong>So I've been slowly but surely stalking a lot of you on Tumblr because I need more frienz, so if I haven't found you yet and you wanna be budsies just send me a message and be all like, 'stalk me, you' and I will. 'Cause I'm nothing if not a creepy creeper.<strong>

**GleekOutKlaine:I'm glad that it worked out well, thank you for the idea, it was awesome! :D**

**Nurse Kate: Hehe thanks! And yes, he did exponentially better. I'll definitely get Burt's side of stuff soon too :D**

**crazypianoman2194: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

**catmonkeyface: Hehe thank you for taking the time to review, I really do appreciate it, but I would still super appreciate you, review or not :D (but it's such a pretty and awesome review, so super thanks for that!)!**

**Miss Olivia Cellophane: I'm glad you thought it was cute :D. And thanks for the Kurt support! He's growing on me a bit, that's for sure. Maybe I'll write for him next..**

**mirvly: Haha oo there will defs be some more Klaine banter and happies soon, I hope :). Thanks for the support!**

**handywithchains: I'm hugging my laptop right now. I hope you can feel that.**

**Kellz: Aww, thank you! I really hope Blaine'll start messing around with them more, and I'm so happy you got that brothers vibe from it! :D**

**KlainePotter: No problem, I love me some questions! There will definitely be more about his old keepers, I haven't been including a lot about it in detail because I feel like it's something Blaine would try not to think about. He's good with his rules because they make sense to him. He repeats a lot of his rules in his head because that's what he's been taught and that's what he knows. What happened with his old keepers doesn't make sense to him, so he doesn't like to think about it. It's confusing, and he wants to go back to when he lived with just his rules and not with his memories. That's part of the reason he doesn't like when the Hummels make him think, because he starts questioning what happened and why and he doesn't have an answer.  
>I guess from that what I'm trying to say is that because of Blaine's old keepers, his version of 'normal' changed. He went from living by strict rules to a horrible event that left him severely scarred to living with the Hummels, and it's more for him about trying to balance out his old life with his new one.<br>Basically, in answer to your question, it's pretty equal parts both. :D**

**TuuzMB: Holy review, Batman! Thank you, I really, really, really, super appreciate your review, it's awesome! I'm so happy the development is coming through okay and that it's not rushed (so far). I'm hoping to get more Kurt/Blaine stuff in next chapter, because even though I classed this under angst (which, okay, it is) I think the fluff is just as important to balance it out. I'm so glad you're liking this, it means so much to me to have people actually enjoy what I'm writing. It's so amazing, thank you! :D**

**guestie! Hehehe I love your reviews, my imaginary friend! I'm supermegahappy you're liking this, and I'm sorry this one took so long to get out. Next time sooner, I hope. Thanks again! And I know, I'll get him something he's good at that makes everyone happy soon! :D**

**amagicfarbeyond: Hehehe thank you, I appreciate your review and I'm happy you like adorable!Blaine :D**


	23. Chapter 23

**So after completely embarrassing my face off via ask box, I have made some vai vai wonderful and vai vai fantastically special friends. So thanks to everyone who didn't block me or go 'eww, creeper' or burn their computers or anything like that. It's really neat to be able to meet new people. Even if you've gotten this far and you're like, 'wtf am i reeding' but you still want friendtimes, come Tumbl with me. I'm creepy but I'm also relatively harmless. So come say hi (now that I have my ask box turned on. What a goof am I). My Tumblr is Oh-Woffie too, and I'm trying to figure out LJ under the same name. That one's probably just going to be me flailing online, but I'm going to try. **

**:D**

**You are all so special to me. Thank you.**

* * *

><p>Kurt bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the pitiful boy in front of him.<p>

"Do you want to bake with me?"

"No."

"Do you want to play scrabble?"

"No."

"Do you want to listen to music with Carrot?"

"…no."

Blaine had been pouting ever since Burt had made it clear that no; Blaine really wasn't going to the garage today and had left Blaine standing in the driveway, shoes sloppily tied and coveralls hanging off one shoulder.

Finn had tried to persuade him to come to the park with him and Puck, but Blaine had just flopped down on the floor in front of the door and shook his head violently.

Blaine was not going to have fun today.

After Finn had left (through the back door, because Blaine refused to move), Kurt took it as a personal challenge to try to see what he could come up with that Blaine would agree to do.

"Do you want to go outside?"

"No."

"Do you want to go outside with Carrot while listening to music and singing along with me and a jar of peanut butter?"

Blaine's head perked up at the suggestion, and he seemed to be thinking about it carefully. After a few moments he frowned and shook his head.

"No."

Kurt had to use both hands to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at Blaine. The boy was clearly in a bad mood, and Kurt laughing wasn't going to make it any better. He took a few deep breaths, glad that Blaine was looking at the floor and not at him.

"Okay then, Mr. Blaine, what do you propose we do?"

"Nothing."

"But what would you like to do?"

"Go to work."

"I know, but you can't go in today. What else can you think of that you would like to do?"

"Sit here and wait for Mr. Burt to come back and take me to work."

Kurt giggled and Blaine shot him an angry pouting glare.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're not going to work today, so I think that you and I should think of some things that we can do here at home that don't involve work. That's not hard, is it?"

"It's too hard." Kurt snorted and Blaine tossed one of his shoes at Kurt lightly. Kurt dodged it easily, but Blaine's eye grew wide. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kurt. I'm not supposed to do that."

"That's okay, Blaine. I was being an ass."

Blaine looked up at Kurt for the first time since he had sat down.

"An ass is a donkey," he said, matter-of-factly. Kurt snorted again.

"It's also another word for a dick." Blaine frowned and cocked his head at Kurt.

"A dick is a –"

"Okay! That's enough from you, Mr. Urban Dictionary. Let's move on, shall we?" Kurt blushed and Blaine grinned at Kurt.

"Dick," he said, smiling as Kurt blushed more.

"Haha, you're funny."

"Dick!"

"Blaine, seriously stop it."

"Dick, dick, dick," Blaine chanted happily, giggling as Kurt turned cherry red.

"Oh my god, Blaine. Dad and Carole are going to think I taught you that. What are you, five?" Kurt reached forward and placed his hand over a squirming Blaine's mouth. The smaller boy giggled, his warm breath tickling Kurt's hand. Kurt kept Blaine's mouth covered and used his free hand to raise a finger to his own lips in a shushing gesture. Blaine stilled instantly. Kurt kept his finger up as he released his hold on Blaine. Backing away slowly, Kurt made sure to keep his eyes on Blaine. The boy's face was blank. Kurt lowered his hands.

"Penis."

"Blaine! You disgusting boy," Kurt chided as Blaine burst into a fit of giggles, "Puck would be so proud of you right now, do you know that?"

At the mention of Puck's name, Blaine stopped laughing. His face returned to its previous pout.

"No," he said. Kurt sighed.

"You are impossible."

Blaine slumped lower and picked at his socked foot wriggling his toes in his hand. Kurt leaned forward and poked his foot.

"Poke," Kurt said. Blaine frowned and buried his face in between his bent legs. "Blaine, are you hiding from me?"

"No," wasBlaine's muffled reply. Kurt saw an exposed patch of skin on Blaine's neck, and he reached over and tickled it. Blaine giggled softly and jerked away, but he refused to sit up again.

"Blaiiine," Kurt whined, tickling his good cheek.

"Kuuuuurt," Blaine mimicked, raising his head enough to rub at his face with one knee. Kurt stopped tickling Blaine. He wasn't sure if the boy had even realized that he had dropped the title of 'Mr.' from his name, but he wasn't going to question it.

"Still don't want to do anything?"

"No."

"Okay. How about if in true time out fashion you go down to your room and I'll be there in a bit with some things that we can do-but-not-do until you feel like you actually want to do something, sound good?"

Blaine shook his head, but he stood up and started walking towards his room. He looked so small with his shoulders slumped and his head down. His hair was starting to get a little shaggy again, but Blaine seemed to be more comfortable when he felt he could hide behind it. It wasn't long enough yet to cause problems in the shop, so no one had suggested they cut it.

As soon as the boy was gone Kurt started wracking his brain for something to do as he paced around the living room. He knew that technically this was Blaine's punishment, but he also knew that no matter how hard they were on him, he was always going to be much harder on himself. Blaine had acted badly and needed to learn to control himself, but he was allowed to have fun, too.

Suddenly, Kurt had an idea.

He ran quickly to Finn's room and grabbed what he needed, then returned to the kitchen to grab a jar of peanut butter and two spoons. With supplies in hand, Kurt ran down the stairs to Blaine's room and knocked with his foot.

"Blaine, can I come in, please?"

A moment later the door opened, and a glum looking Blaine took a step back to allow Kurt to enter the room.

" 'Lo, Mr. Kurt," he mumbled before sinking to the floor by his bed, clutching Carrot tightly in his hands.

"Hi Blaine," Kurt chirped, falling gracefully beside Blaine. He passed Blaine the jar of peanut butter and the spoons before he started to set up his other supplies. "I know you're upset about what happened yesterday, and I know that you don't like it when anyone's upset with you, so I think that I have the perfect solution."

Kurt passed Blaine a stack of colored construction paper and smiled. Blaine frowned at it, but his eye was scanning it curiously.

"What is this for, Mr. Kurt?"

"We're going to make an 'I'm sorry' card, and afterwards you and I are going to make some 'I'm sorry' cookies. As insane as Rachel is sometimes, I have to admit that saying I'm sorry with cookies is one of the most brilliant ideas she's ever had. Even I can't stay mad at someone when there are cookies involved."

Kurt watched Blaine lean forward to examine the other supplies he'd brought with him. He seemed especially intrigued by the container of glitter, and more than a little pleased at the assortment of bright colored paper Kurt instructed him to pick from. Blaine pointed to a bright yellow page, and Kurt ripped it out of the book for him carefully.

"Don't worry if you make a mistake, okay? There's more paper, and I'll even leave all the yellow ones for you if you want them."

It turned out that Kurt didn't need to worry about saving the one colour. Once he determined that he was indeed allowed to take more than one paper Blaine had begun to rip out page after page, stacking them on the floor beside him in a sloppy pile.

"I have paper, Mr. Kurt," Blaine grinned.

"I see that. Do you want to draw on your paper? If you draw something we can even cut it out and glue it onto the yellow one for your card."

Blaine's eye widened comically.

"I can do that?"

"It's your card, Blaine. You can put whatever you want on it."

Blaine smiled happily at his paper, placing his hand on top of the pile and dragging it sideways to spread it out so that he could see all of his colours. Kurt slid a box of crayons towards him and Blaine bounced in excitement.

"I can make Mrs. Carole flowers! Mrs. Carole likes flowers." Blaine sloppily drew the outline of one, followed by another, and another, and another, looking up every few seconds to see what it was that Kurt was working on. After a few minutes of drawing, Blaine shoved his paper away from him in a fit of anger and frustration. "They're ugly. Mrs. Carole won't forgive me if I give her ugly flowers."

Kurt picked up the discarded paper and examined it critically.

"I like it," he stated. Blaine frowned at him.

"It's not good like yours."

Kurt looked at his own paper. He had never been into painting and drawing still life, but with his passion for fashion he had found that he wasn't bad at it either. His own flowers looked much more realistic than Blaine`s crudely drawn ones. Realization hit him hard. Blaine thought that Carole and Burt`s forgiveness would be based on how well he drew his card, and how well it matched the skill of Kurt`s own drawing. Quickly, he flipped his own flower over. Kurt drew a basic outline of a daisy and slid it towards Blaine.

"I really do like your flower, Blaine, but if you want you can copy mine."

Blaine stared blankly at the paper in front of him. Lifting his hand, he gently traced the outline of it with his finger.

"I can draw that," he mumbled, more to himself than to Kurt. Kurt slid him a new sheet of paper, and Blaine set out to copy his work. His concentration was astounding, and Kurt was surprised to see that, once finished, Blaine's flower was identical to Kurt's outline and even went so far as to include the small hitch in the stem that Kurt had made when he had hesitated in his drawing to shift his arm.

"This is amazing, Blaine." Kurt flipped the paper over. "Just for fun, do you want to try this one?"

"Can I keep it close? I can't draw far away like last time."

"Yeah, Blaine. You can keep it close."

Kurt watched in amazement as Blaine again drew the flower perfectly. Kurt began to draw more flowers, and Blaine in turn copied them onto separate pieces of paper. Once Blaine had six satisfactory flowers they stopped drawing.

"Mrs. Carole will like this," Blaine asked hesitantly as he and Kurt sat side by side against the bed cutting out the flowers.

"She's going to love them. It's going to be a beautiful card." Kurt nudged Blaine with his shoulder, but the boy didn't respond. "Are you alright, Blaine?"

"We have to put them on a card," Blaine asked quietly.

"Was there something else you wanted to do with them?"

Blaine nodded and leaned in close to Kurt, whispering quietly into his ear.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Blaine."

Blaine smiled and resumed his cutting.

"Thank you, Mr. Kurt. We can make Mr. Burt some flowers too?"

"Absolutely we can, Mr. Blaine. What kind of flowers do you think we should make for him?"

Blaine stopped cutting and furrowed his brow. Kurt mimicked the boy's facial expression and leaned in close to Blaine.

"Bow flowers, Mr. Kurt," Blaine said plainly. Kurt snorted, and then apologized.

"I didn't mean to laugh Blaine, I like the idea, but why bow flowers?"

"Mr. Burt taught me my shoes. Mr. Burt didn't get mad when I messed up my bows and maybe he won't be mad at me if I give him really nice bows."

Kurt smiled at Blaine.

"What about bowties? Then instead of coming up with six different types of bows we could just decorate them?"

"Yes Mr. Kurt, I like this."

"Okay, how about we turn your music on?" Kurt stood up and walked over to Blaine's dresser where his CD player sat. "Can we sit on your bed, Blaine? Just while we're using the scissors, at least. When we start drawing and decorating we'll need to go back down again, but frankly my butt's falling asleep."

Blaine grinned and climbed up onto his bed, rearranging Carrot in his lap.

"Your ass, Mr. Kurt?"

"Oh hardy har har," Kurt mumbled, sticking his tongue out at Blaine, who returned the gesture happily. Kurt pressed play and gathered his flowers and scissors before seating himself right next to Blaine. He laughed as he heard the opening chords of the first song.

"Blaine, are you seriously listening to Christmas music?"

Blaine grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"I like the bells, Mr. Kurt."

Kurt laughed and nudged Blaine.

"Would you like to sing with me, Mr. Blaine?"

Blaine bit his lip and glanced down at his hands. He nodded.

"Mind if I start?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Okay, Mr. Kurt."

"_I really can't stay…"_

"…"

"_I've got to go away…"_

"…"

Kurt leaned in close to Blaine and whispered as though he was telling him a secret.

"You know, a duet only works if both people sing. You have a beautiful voice, Blaine, and I'd be honored if you'd let me sing with you. I know you know this song, Blaine."

Blaine blushed as he fiddled with Carrot's ears, his paper now forgotten. He took a deep breath.

"_I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice,"_

"_My mother will start to worry,"_

"_Beautiful, what's your hurry,"_

"_My father will be pacing the floor,"_

"_Listen to the fireplace roar,"_

"_So really I'd better scurry,"_

"_Beautiful, please don't hurry,"_

"_Well maybe just a half a drink more,"_

"_Put some records on while I pour,"_

Kurt smiled as they continued to sing. He resumed his cutting, but noted that Blaine hadn't. He was still staring intently at Carrot, alternating between flipping the toy's ears and stroking the tangled fur between his fingers.

_"This welcome has been,"_

_"How lucky that you dropped in,"_

_"So nice and warm,"_

_"Look out the window at that storm,"_

Somehow between the verses Blaine had snuggled closer to Kurt. He placed the rabbit carefully in the other boy's lap as Kurt sang again,

_"My sister will be suspicious,"_

_"Gosh, your lips look delicious,"_

_"My brother will be there at the door,"_

_"Waves upon a tropical shore,"_

Blaine shuffled closer again, laying his head down on Kurt's shoulder.

_"My maiden aunt's mind is vicious,"_

Blaine looked up at Kurt.

_"Gosh, your lips are – "_

"There you dudes are!"

Blaine shot up quickly as Finn threw open the door and entered the room.

"Finn, you can't just barge into Blaine's room whenever you feel like it, you need to knock first."

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly before walking out of the room and closing the door. A few seconds later they heard a knock. "Hey, uh, Blaine? It's Finn, and uh, Puck's here too, can we come in?"

Blaine stood and went to open the door for Finn. The two boys entered the room.

"Hey little man, hey Blaine," Puck greeted warmly.

"Hilarious, Noah."

"I try."

"What are you guys doing in here? Is this my Rachel-apology-craft-collection?"

Puck laughed.

"Dude, you do crafts? That is so totally –" Puck cut himself off as he saw Blaine holding his paper flower. "super awesome, man. I love crafts. Crafts are like, the best, I totally love them so much. Can I make something?"

Blaine smiled at him and nodded.

"Cool," Puck said, flopping to the floor and picking up a piece of paper from Blaine's pile.

"Those are Blaine's, you can take from the book," Kurt warned, shooting Puck a glare.

"Mr. Puck can take one if he wants to," Blaine said quietly.

"Aww, thanks for sharing, amigo. At least _some_ people are nice," he said, making a face at Kurt.

"What're we making," Finn asked, sitting beside Puck.

"A garden for Mrs. Carole and Mr. Burt," Blaine replied happily showing the two boys his flowers.

"Pretty flowers, Blaine," Finn said as he reached to take one, "they look just like Kurt's."

"Blaine and I are just two very talented people, I guess," Kurt hummed as he cut out his last flower. "Would you two care to help?"

* * *

><p>Kurt sent a text message to Carole and Burt instructing them to come home at the same time because Blaine had a surprise for them. Burt replied telling his son that he would surprise Carole at work and wait the extra hour to pick her up. They had planned to go to the hospital together soon to discuss what would happen when Blaine was fitted for his new eye and that this was a good enough opportunity for it.<p>

Kurt left to start dinner and soon after Finn received a call from a very angry Rachel that he had to take, so Puck and Blaine were left alone.

"So," Puck started, stretching out on Blaine's bed, "you wanna tell me what happened yesterday?"

Blaine looked down.

"No."

"Too bad, bud. We're gonna talk about it."

"Mr. Burt and Mrs. Carole already talked to me. I know I was bad," he said, covering Carrot's eyes with its ears.

"Look, man. I don't know what kinda stuff you've been through and all, but I know anger. Hell, I'm the self-crowned King of Rage. And as King, I know how you feel."

Blaine shook his head forcefully.

"No."

Puck sighed and drew out eight different faces on a piece of discarded paper.

"I want you to tell me what all these are, Blaine. What emotion is this."

The boy took the paper and studied it carefully.

"Happy…sad…tired…confused…scared…relieved…frustrated…angry."

"Good job, Blaine," Puck muttered. He adjusted himself so that the two of them sat shoulder to shoulder. "Now, before you got angry yesterday, you were feeling…" Blaine pointed to the fourth face. "Confused, okay. Why were you confused?"

"Everyone was calling me Mr. Blaine."

"And you didn't like that."

"No."

"Okay, so you got angry because of that?" Blaine shook his head. "Okay, what about after that?"

Blaine pointed to confused again.

"They took away the table."

"You didn't want everyone to sit with you for dinner?"

"No."

"Okay, and after that?"

Blaine pointed to frustrated.

"Mrs. Carole knows I'm not allowed to take food. It's not allowed. I don't like doing things if I'm not allowed."

"But she said you were allowed – "

"But I'm not."

"And after that?"

Blaine pointed to angry. Puck threw his arm around the smaller boy.

"Y'know, it's okay to get angry sometimes, but you gotta think about why you're angry." He picked up a red, yellow, and green crayon. "Green is good, right? So we'll colour happy green. The next ones yellow, because it's okay to feel those too. These ones y'gotta be careful with, because if you're feeling one of these and then you start feeling another one too it's gonna lead to this."

He coloured angry red.

"Oh," Blaine whispered.

"Yeah, so 'cause you were feeling this and this, you got angry. It doesn't always work like that, though. Sometimes you get angry just because you're angry and that's okay too. But these are warning signs that if you're feeling these you might get angry, and you need to find out how to deal with that before you start hurting people, okay?"

Blaine nodded.

"What do I do," he begged quietly. Puck shrugged.

"It's different for everybody, man. You gotta find something that works for you."

"What do you do, Mr. Puck?" Puck stared at Blaine for a long moment before he reached over and shut the door.

"You remember our secrets, right, Blaine? You don't tell people our secrets, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Puck."

"I can take you with me sometime if you want to try it out, but rule number one is we don't talk about it, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Puck."

"The school's security is really weak at McKinley, and sometimes at night I go in there to use the gym. I lift weights, yell, punch the bag, lots of stuff to just let off some steam, y'know?"

Blaine nodded.

"It makes you less angry?"

"Nah, I'm still angry, but I can control it better because I know that even if I walk away when something's getting to me I can just pretend I'm hitting them or something when I go back later."

"And I could come?"

"Sure. But like I said, you can't tell anyone when we go. It's not good to break into places but I promise you that we won't get caught, I've been doing this since I gave up Beth. It might not work for you, but we can give it a shot. Who knows, you could be a pretty good boxer. It'll be like our own little fight club or something."

Blaine smiled.

"Okay, Mr. Puck." The older boy ruffled the smaller one's hair.

"Awesome."

* * *

><p>When Burt and Carole arrived home the sun had almost set. The two of them started up the walkway to the door when they heard a crash from inside.<p>

'_I got it, I got it,'_ they heard Finn yell. All of a sudden the porch light came on and Burt and Carole could see that planted in the front garden were Blaine's flowers. They alternated between glittering multi-colored regular flowers and glittering multi-patterned bowtie flowers. In between them all were a jumble of letters arranged at different levels in the soil.

'_IM SORRY BURT AND CAROLE'._

Carole laughed and pulled her husband into a tight hug.

"I think Blaine missed going to work today."

"I think you might be right."

The boy in question opened the door enough to poke just his head through. He peeked at them cautiously as they smiled and waved at him. A little ways down his hand shot through the crack in the door and he waved back.

"Blaine, come here," Carole called brightly. He shuffled out the door towards them, keeping his head low and shoulders hunched.

"Is it okay, Mr. Burt and Mrs. Carole?"

"It's okay, sweetheart," she cooed as she pulled him into a warm hug. Burt clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"You did all this, kid?"

"Mr. Kurt and Mr. Finn and Mr. Puck helped. But I drew the flowers and cut them out and coloured them and wrote the letters and planted them."

"You did really good, Blaine."

"Can I go to work tomorrow?"

"Sure, kid."

Blaine smiled and hopped in place as Carole walked over towards the flowers to examine them more carefully.

"This was really thoughtful of you, Blaine," Burt started, "but you still have to learn to tell us before you get angry." Blaine grinned cheekily.

"Can I tell you now, Mr. Burt?"

"Uh, sure." Burt looked confused, but Blaine's smile just grew as he reached into his pocket.

"I feel…" he said, biting his lip and staring at his hands. He raised them quickly as he thrust a piece of paper into Burt's face, finger planted firmly over the happy face.

"Happy," Burt laughed. "What's this, kid?"

"Mr. Puck made me a paper. I like it."

"This easier than saying what you feel?"

"Yes, Mr. Burt."

"Well good. So long as it works for you, kid, that's all that matters to me."

* * *

><p><strong>:D<strong>

**AlexaCardew: Thank you, I'm glad you like it!**

**GraceCale: Aww, I really appreciate that, it means a lot, thank you! :D**

**Thaliana: Hehe, thanks! I really do like adorable Blaine, I hope he can come back more often.**

**handywithchains: (your new username is the bestest thing ever. Not to say I didn't like your old one, but this is just awesome) I totally get what you mean. Composed Blaine is overrated, and maybe he is due for a breakdown... ;) Thank you for your awesome reviews, they are sweet and delicious, I like them very much, rambly or not :D!**

**Nurse Kate: Thank you! Hehe, I thought about letting Blaine suffer all day, but I can't give him too much sad all the time. That's not a spoiler... :D. I really love the house elf comparisons. I think it's just perfect and spot on and I love it, so thank you. Maybe after this I'll write a Dobby!Blaine fic. That could actually be kinda cute.**

**TuuzMB: Tee hee! We all share around here, so go ahead! I know I'm back to the fluff a little soon but I'll make up for it.**

**KlainePotter: Thank you! I hope that this one was a little happier for you! :D**

**Guestie!**

I like your review  
>So I wrote you a haiku<br>Just to say thank you.

**(the rhyming was bonus and accidental, but I laughed when I figured it out so I kept it).**

**musicbeyondmagic: Hehehe I do love me some angsty teen. I hope that was an okay way to spend a day off! :D**

**TwistedRocketPower: Thank you vai vai much!**

**iadorespike: I'm glad you're still liking it! I figured Blaine needed at least a minor breakdown so I hope it turned out okay.**

**Daybreaq: I do agree that they need to have a talk with him about boundaries and what is an accident and what isn't. That is a discussion that needs to happen, but I think Burt and Carole were still a little too stressed to think clearly in that last scene. Soon!**

**mybrotherharry: Huzzah! I'm glad it did things to you. Good things. It makes me quite happy, thank you!**

**Yesiamstrangegetoverit: Yay!Wi-fi! :D Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it! **

**amethyst-unicorn: Thank you very much, I really appreciate it! Haha yes, I know Beth was crazy off and I apologize. I'm not a kid person, so I tried YouTube-ing two year olds but I guess it didn't work out too much. Now I'm watching Teen Mom. We'll see how that works out, hope it gets better, and if not let me know again and I'll see what I can do. :D**

**Becca: I am beyond flattered that you like this, I'm so happy. Thank you very much I appreciate it and you beyond belief. I really hope that I can end this as well as I started it. I'm actually really surprised at the response I've gotten for it so far. It's amazing, so thank you. :D**


	24. Chapter 24

**Sorry this took so long! I've been cray cray busy! Ughhh! :D**

**BUT! For those of you who think I'm afraid of writing actual Klaine (which actually included me up until a week ago) I wrote a SuperKlaine fic! Huzzah! **

**-pimping-**

**:D**

**Lurve you allll!**

* * *

><p>'<em>Did you eat it?'<em>

'_No sir.'_

_The boy kept his forehead pressed to the ground as his keeper loomed over him._

'_This bowl was full when I left this morning, boy. Did I feed you?'_

'_No sir.'_

'_Did I give you permission to eat?'_

'_No sir.'_

'_Did you steal from me, boy? Did you disobey me?'_

'_No sir.'_

_The man grabbed the boy's hair and forcefully pulled it, yanking his head back painfully far. The boy made no sound._

'_Open.'_

_The boy opened his mouth, both eyes staring blankly as far down and to his left as he could as his keeper's fingers pushed past his lips, forcing them away from his teeth. The man tilted the boy's head back further as he ran his index finger and thumb across the sides of his gums, inspecting each tooth carefully. The boy was pushed further back while his keeper crouched to inspect his upper jaw. After he had again inspected each tooth, he pulled his hand from the boy's mouth, grimacing as he viewed his wet fingers._

'_When my wife gets home, I'm going to call my wife. If she doesn't know what happened to that food, and I find out you're lying to me,' he lifted his hand to grab the boy's lips, pinching them together and jerking them down quickly, eliciting a small yelp of surprise from the boy, 'you're going to be in a lot of trouble, boy.'_

_The man pulled the boy's lips side to side, shaking him like a dog before letting go._

'_Yes sir,' the boy replied quietly._

'_Go get me a cloth.'_

_The boy stood and made his way quickly into the kitchen as he heard his keeper begin to dial. He wet a cloth and added a small amount of soap, then grabbed another and wet it with only water. He hurried back to his keeper, kneeling at his feet and presenting the soapy cloth to him, keeping the other closer to his body, but still visible. The man held out his hand, and the boy dropped the second cloth in his lap before starting to carefully scrub each of his keeper's fingers. Once he finished, he traded the first for the second and used it to wipe away all traces of soap from the other man's hand._

'_Good boy,' the man praised. 'My wife said she took some for her and her co-workers, but how do I know you didn't take advantage of that. Did you take another, thinking we wouldn't notice?'_

_The boy shook his head profusely._

'_I did not, sir.'_

_The man grabbed the boy by his hair and dragged him down the hall. The boy flailed slightly, trying to regain his balance and find his feet to take some of the tension off of his scalp. He bit back another whimper as he felt a patch of hair rip from his scalp. As soon as he had managed to come to his feet, he was pulled into the bathroom and shoved against the toilet. The boy's eyes started watering when the phantom sensation of what was going to happen hit him. He was gagging before the toothbrush hit the back of his throat. Within moments, the boy began to dry heave, managing to throw up a small amount of water that he had drunk from his bowl shortly before his keeper had returned home. The boy gurgled a few times as his keeper pressed the toothbrush into his throat further, but nothing else came up. Finally, he was released._

'_Good boy,' his keeper praised, tossing the toothbrush at the boy who sat crouched low on the ground, huddled against the base of the toilet shivering. 'Clean up.'_

_The boy was left alone. He took a few steadying breaths before reaching up to flush the toilet. The boy quickly picked the toothbrush off the ground and bit it, letting out a long and quiet grunt until the sounds of the toilet quieted. He fell silent but continued to bite the toothbrush. He would pay for damaging it later, but as he ran his hand through his hair, pulling from it the clump that had come lose, it was the only thing keeping him from crying._

* * *

><p>"We have a surprise for you, Blaine."<p>

The boy stilled and looked at his keepers cautiously from the back seat of the truck.

"A surprise, Mr. Burt?"

"Yep. Are you excited?"

Blaine shook his head.

"I don't like surprises, Mr. Burt."

Burt pulled into an unfamiliar driveway and turned off the truck. Turning to face Blaine, he spoke softly.

"Before this starts, I just want you to know that this surprise is a good one, Blaine. But I want you to know that it has absolutely nothing to do with how well you've been doing at work and at home. This isn't a reward, Blaine. This is something that we would have done regardless of how you've been acting. Not that we don't appreciate how hard you've been trying since that blow up last week, but we want you to know that this isn't something that's going to be taken away from you if you do something that we don't like. This is not a reward. It's something that you deserve just for being you, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Burt."

Blaine didn't understand what his keeper was talking about, but he wasn't asked if he had questions so he stayed silent. He would find out soon what they were doing, he just hoped it didn't hurt.

"This is Rachel's house, Blaine. Inside, there's a party for you."

"For me?"

"Yep. All the kids from Finn and Kurt's glee club are there, 'cept for that Sugar girl, but we didn't invite her so yeah."

"The kids all did something very nice for you, Blaine, and they wanted to throw you a party so they could give you something really special." Carole beamed at the boy and opened her door. "It's a good surprise, honey; you're really going to like it."

The three of them exited the truck and walked up to the house. A man stood in the doorway waiting for them.

"Hello! You must be Blaine, it's wonderful to finally meet you. I'm Hiram, and this is my husband, Leroy. We're Rachel's fathers. Come in, come in!"

They followed the men into a large room where all the members of the New Directions sat quietly.

"Surprise," they said quietly, waving at Blaine. Blaine waved back shyly, causing a few of the girls to giggle quietly.

"Welcome to my home, Blaine," Rachel greeted, hugging him lightly. Blaine stiffened at the contact, but when Rachel wouldn't let go, he patted her back lightly. She grinned and released him quickly. "Good hug, Blaine," she praised.

"Blaine, we're here today because the glee club did something very special for you." Blaine nodded at Carole as he moved to hide behind her. He knew that they were all nice, but everyone was staring at him now. They looked like they wanted him to do something, but he didn't know what. He reached up slowly, wrapping his hand tightly in the material of her sweater, pressing his face close to her side. She reached up to him and lightly stroked his cheek. "Are you okay, sweetheart," she murmured, warm breath tickling his ear.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Good boy, Blaine. It's okay, I promise."

Blaine shifted uneasily behind her and cuddled close. Rachel started to speak, but Burt cut her off.

"Blaine, bud," he said, crouching in front of the boy, "you remember when we went to the doctor last month, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Remember when we were talking about your eye, and how we were going to get you a prosthetic?"

Blaine perked at that, peeking around Carole's shoulder, his remaining eye sparkling with hesitant excitement.

"Yes sir," he replied with a shaking voice.

"You know that we've been having some money trouble, so we've been having a hard time to save up enough money to get you the eye." Burt watched Blaine visibly deflate and hide behind Carole again. He continued quickly. "The glee kids had a fundraiser for you. They went around and sang songs for a lot of different people in nursing homes and in parks and they raised the money for you. Everyone's here to celebrate with you, Blaine. You're getting an eye."

Blaine started shaking.

"Are you okay, honey?"

The boy didn't answer, but he buried his face further into Carole's side.

"Blaine, buddy, it's okay, Blaine, it's okay." Burt rushed forward as Blaine collapsed against Carole, who stumbled sideways from the unexpected force. Burt wrapped his hands securely around Blaine's shoulders, pulling the boy towards himself and slowly easing him to the ground. Blaine let out a small, quiet sob into Burt's chest and he pulled him closer, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Blaine?"

The boy sniffled and raised his head to acknowledge the voice he didn't recognize. He jumped in surprise as the face of a girl appeared within an inch of his own.

"Brittany, honey, just give him a little space."

The girl – Brittany – smiled at Blaine, seemingly oblivious of the fact that she had been spoken to.

"Hi Blaine," she chirped brightly, waving her hand in front of the good half of his face so that he could see her. Blaine raised his hand and waved back timidly.

"I'm Brittany."

"Blaine," the boy croaked, followed by a quick sniffle. Brittany didn't seem to notice.

"I think it's really cool that we could buy you an eye. I put it on my resume because I think it gives me a bit of an advantage when I apply for jobs because I actually helped a blind person see again." She smiled and shrugged. "I'm like a really hot Jesus."

"Brit, give Blaine some space, please. You can talk to him later, okay?" Kurt moved quickly to pull Brittany away, but the girl held fast, continuing to talk to the boy in front of her without so much as a glance to Kurt.

"But as cool as it is that you got an eye, I really don't think it's fair that you get one but your best friend doesn't."

"Brit, what on earth are you – "

From her pocket, Brittany pulled out something small and white.

"Kurt said that your bunny only has one eye too. My mom makes dolls, and when I told her about yours she said that your bunny could have one of her extras so that it wouldn't be sad that you can see and it can't. I asked Kurt if I could borrow it so my mom could put it on because I wanted to surprise you, but he told me you wouldn't like it if I took it and didn't tell you why."

"You just said that you wanted to give it a makeover. Do you blame me for not letting you take it?"

"So I was wondering if I promise to take really, really good care of it, could I borrow Carrot so we can give it an eye too? Then the next time you see each other you'll both have all your eyes."

Blaine sniffed again, subtly trying to wipe his nose on his sleeve. He leaned forward to get a closer look and Brittany held the eye out to him happily.

"Thank you, Miss," he sniffed.

"You're welcome, Blaine! But I'm going to hold on to this for you until my mom can put it in Carrot because you lost your eye and I still have both of mine so I think that makes me less likely to lose this one." She smiled at Blaine warmly before replacing the eye in her pocket.

Blaine offered her a crooked smile, sniffing once more before accepting her hand in an offer to help him to his feet.

"Thank you," he mumbled as she pulled him in for a tight hug.

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p>After the initial shock had worn off, Carole and Burt stepped back and watched as Blaine began to 'socialize' with the other kids. He didn't like to be further than an arm's length from Kurt, Finn, Puck, or Brittany, but as the night progressed he no longer looked terrified when his protectors stepped a little further away. None of them seemed to be trying to engage Blaine into a conversation, but when an inside joke or event were mentioned, there was always someone there to explain the background story to Blaine.<p>

Blaine seemed particularly enthralled with Artie's wheelchair once he discovered what its main function was. He was beyond pleased when Artie offered to let him push it around, and the boys spent nearly a half hour going up and down the Berry's hallway. Artie spoke softly to Blaine as the boy pushed him carefully as if he were afraid of going too fast.

"D'you want to try it, Blaine," Artie asked, positioning himself to exit the wheelchair. Blaine shook his head.

"No thank you, sir."

"Are you sure? I can get out pretty easy and it's not that hard to move." Blaine shook his head again.

"I might break it, sir."

"You won't break it, I promise."

Blaine pushed himself and Artie up against the wall as Mike exited the bathroom and started to pass them.

"Hey Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you grab me a chair?" Mike nodded and jogged out of the hall. "Just try it once. If you don't like it you can get out whenever you want." Artie smiled at Blaine, but the boy just tensed.

"I'll crash it, sir." Artie laughed.

"Mike can push you like you pushed me if you want. That way you definitely won't crash."

Mike returned a moment later with a chair and Artie easily maneuvered himself into it.

"You goin' for a ride," Mike asked excitedly. Blaine stared at the chair with a nervous excitement.

"Go ahead and sit, Blaine. Mike'll push you real slow, right?"

"Right."

Blaine bit his lip and looked at the two boys who both smiled with encouragement at him. He let out a small grin before he tentatively seated himself on the edge of the chair.

"You've gotta go back more than that, you'll fall out," Artie laughed. Blaine scooted himself back.

"Like this, Mr. Artie?"

"Perfect. You ready for Mike to push?" Blaine nodded. Mike barely had the wheelchair moving before Blaine burst into a fit of giggles, clutching the arm rests tightly.

"Can I go a little faster?" Blaine nodded and Mike sped up to a walking pace. The boy lifted his feet off the ground and put them in Artie's foot plates. He laughed when Mike started to zigzag lazily across the hall.

"Did you see the wheels?" Blaine shook his head and bent forward, laughing in delight as he watched the spinning wheels light up in different colours.

"I like it," he giggled, bouncing in his seat. Mike turned him around and pushed him back to Artie, stopping at the end to spin the chair a few times before stopping. Blaine stood up, stumbling a little into Mike's arms as he recovered from the spin.

"You okay?"

"Yes sir!"

Artie slid himself back into his chair and Mike picked up the one he had been sitting on, bringing it back into the room just as Burt poked his head through the doorframe.

"Hey, guys. We're just about to cut the cake, you comin'?"

Blaine nodded furiously, resuming his place behind Artie to take them both back into the living room.

There was a cake on the table in the center of the room with two candles already lit in the middle ("One for each eye," Brittany had helpfully pointed out).

"It's a vegan peanut butter cake. I know a few of the members of our glee club think that I made this to try to push my morally right views on you," she shot a look at Santana, "but I chose this recipe because it has peanut butter _and_ it's not very sweet, so I really hope that you like it." She beamed and pointed to her cake proudly. Blaine blushed and mumbled his thanks.

"Go ahead honey," Carole encouraged quietly, "blow the candles out."

Blaine giggled again, causing the others to look at him curiously.

"I know that song," he exclaimed proudly. Burt knelt down to Blaine's level.

"What song, kid?"

Blaine fought back a smile as he started to hum quietly. The others leaned in closer to hear it, but Kurt figured it out first.

"_The power lines went out,  
>and I am all alone,<br>but I don't really care at all,  
>not answering my phone."<em>

Blaine grinned at him and continued the verse quietly himself.

"_All the games you played,  
>the promises you made.<br>Couldn't finish what you started  
>only darkness still remains."<em>

Rachel was the first to pick up the harmony, elbowing Finn and Mercedes beside her to join in.

"_Lost sight,  
>couldn't see.<br>When it was you and me,_

_Blow the candles out,  
>Looks like a solo tonight.<br>I'm beginning to see the light.  
>Blow the candles out,<br>looks like a solo tonight,  
>but I think I'll be alright."<em>

Blaine giggled and pressed his forehead to Kurt's. With a small smirk, he blew out the candles.

* * *

><p><strong>I suck at disclaimers but I don't own Glee and that song was 'Candles' by Hey Monday. OkayCool!<strong>

**Mirvly: Ehehehe :D I'm glad you liked Blaine's dirty, dirty mind. Silly boy!**

**Nurse Kate: Haha yeah, Puck better not be doing anything stupid. Wouldn't want Blaine to get hurt now, would we? ;)**

**GleekOutKlaine: We'll have more Klainetime, I promise! :D**

**aviolentshadeofpurple: THANK YOU, ILU!**

**The Peppermint Field: Ahh! Thank you! I hope you see this, but if you don't, I have awesome powers of fuzzies so I know that you'll at least feel the good vibes I'm sending your way :D PS Happy you liked Rachel too!**

**handywithchains: Aww, thank you! Happy you liked pouty Blaine. He sure didn't like it. :{P I'm sorry BICO was interrupted, but we'll get some more singing cuddles soon I hope. Unless I forget. In which case oOops!**

**PotionMaster94: Thank You, Friend! :D**

**AlexaCardew: Haha I'm horrible, I've already slacked on LJ. BUT I SHALL FIND AND FRIEND YOU! :D**

**Fly Away Dreams: Yay!Cute! And kisses? Who knows!**

**musicbeyondmagic: D'aww! :D And yes, Blaine's face stuff will be coming up. Soon. Ish. :D**

**matchbookjealousy: Haha yes, defs went better :D Thanks you!**

**amethyst-unicorn: Hehehe yes...the fight club...it shall be fun and full of adventure! We'll be getting more back story, and I know some people want to know about the shop so I'll put something about that in too. :D Thanks for reading!**

**Kurt Fearella: You're adorable-er! :D**

**Kellz: Aww, thank you! Maybe I'll draw a picture of the garden. And it will be just as wonderful as Blaine's free-form-non-copied-drawings. Because I can't art. Much. But I'll try. For you.**

**Nyasar-tan: THANK YOU! I'm so glad you like it and that you're okay with the lack of Klaine-romance. And that you like Puck. I wasn't sure how he'd come across at first, so happy that it's going well-ish so far!**

**TheOtherR.A.B. :D Thank you vai vai much, I appreciate both you and your review! :D**

**CalinaAnneHart: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Yeah, Blaine dealing with his rage is gonna be fun...for me. ;)**

**mybrotherharry: YOU'RE ADORABLE! Hehe gotta love dem puppies! Maybe I'll get Blaine a puppy... hmmm! :D**

**KlainePotter: Thank you! So super happypants you liked it!**

**TuuzMB: Aww, thank you! :D**

**TwistedRocketPower: Ehehe thank you! :D**

**kurtcoblaine-klainetrain: I creeped you! Now we can be creeper friends! *YAY*! And thank you! :D**

**Guestie! AHHH HAIKU! Huzzah! Even if you reveal your true identity we can still be secret friends. Like Batman and Gordon. You can be Batman. I'll be Gordon. That MoFo is a BAMF!**

**The Songbirds Are Singing: I am physically in love with you. Which is not creepy at all. I'm so happy I could help contribute to your lack of sleep.**

**iadorespike: Thank you for reading! It makes me so happy!**

**Fabi: Oh no! I hope your day got better, and that the days that followed STAYED GOOD. Because you deserve nice things. You deserve SO MANY NICE THINGS. Happy I could help a little, though :D**

**crazypianoman2194: I LURVE U!**

**04netgurl: Aww, thank you so much, I'm so glad you like it so far! I have both eyes myself, but I just realized that you're a couple chapters behind so I'm going to PM you so I know you get it! Yaay!**

**cloudedcrimson: AHH! THANKS! :D I'm so happy I caused you sleep deprivation. Because I'm kinda horrible. Really glad that you think it's a good balance so far, hopefully it stays that way :P I like this review, it is pretty. I don't need one every chapter, I still love you the same. Because I can. And, super happy it's not cheesy yet! YAAY! :D I'm kind of a cheeseball, so I'm glad I'm not leaking into the chapters. Too much.  
>Haha Kluddles is epic, I love it! And you ;)!<strong>


	25. Chapter 25

**Sorry this is late! Like I said in BYFOT I'm in between quitting one job and starting some other stuff, these past two weeks (plus one more) have been overlapping everything, so it's been a little busy! After Sunday I should be updating more frequently, but if this happens again I apologize in advance.**

**Lurve you all! :D**

* * *

><p>'<em>Boy, did you touch this?'<em>

'_Come here, no, don't you back away from me.'_

'_Punishment is for those who don't obey. If you don't obey you will be punished. If you do, you will not.'_

'_Get in the bed.'_

'_Get out of the room.'_

'_Why can't you listen.'_

'_Stupid boy.'_

'_Good adoptives learn quickly, you don't want to be bad, do you?'_

'_COME HERE!'_

Blaine woke suddenly, his entire body trembling. He didn't like those dreams. They didn't make sense. When he dreamed of events he could understand, but this… Blaine just wanted the people to stop yelling at him.

With shaking arms he lifted himself from the bed and padded softly to the door. Pressing his ear against it, he listened for the sounds of his keepers, but he heard nothing. They must have all gone to sleep.

Being careful not to make noise with the door, Blaine pushed through and quietly crawled up the stairs. It was hard to see in the dark, and he was still disoriented from his sleep, so crawling seemed to be the only option he had to ensure he wouldn't fall and wake anyone. Reaching the top of the stairs, he made his way to the front door and, not for the first time that week, placed his hand on the knob.

He knew where Mr. Puck lived. Mr. Puck had said he would help him stop being so angry. He hadn't yet. Almost every night Blaine awoke from terrible dreams that left him scared and angry, but Mr. Puck was never there. He knew he could find the other boy's home, but he didn't know if his keepers had set up an alarm to keep him from running away, or if they could track him. He didn't want to get Mr. Puck in trouble, he just wanted to stop being so sad and angry. He tightened his grip on the handle and let out a quiet whine.

'_Good adoptives aren't allowed to cry.'_

He wasn't good.

Blaine slunk over to the stairs and held the railing cautiously. He was allowed upstairs. Mr. Burt had said he was allowed, but could he go at night? Was he _really_ allowed? Blaine choked back another sob. He didn't care about rules right now. He didn't want to be alone.

Blaine crawled up the stairs and made his way to the door at the end of the hall. He could hear Mr. Burt's deep snores through the wall and it made him happy. He pressed all of his weight against the door and listened to the sound of his keepers breathing. His keepers would keep him safe. They wouldn't yell and they wouldn't hit. They were nice to him, and he liked them very much.

They wouldn't be angry if he was lonely…would they?

Blaine held his breath as he turned the doorknob, jumping as the door creaked open. He held his breath, but his keeper continued to snore.

Closing the door behind him, Blaine sunk to his hands and knees and crawled to the foot of the bed, relishing the sound of his keepers breathing so close.

He curled up underneath the edge of the bed and breathed out a content sigh of relief, his keeper's snores lulling him to sleep.

* * *

><p>Burt awoke slowly, groaning quietly as he tried to fall back asleep, but the pressure on his bladder wouldn't allow it. Rolling over, he read the bright letters of the clock. 1:03A.M.. Burt sighed and stretched out underneath the warm comfortable blankets, wincing as his back cracked loudly.<p>

Mumbling quietly to himself, Burt stood slowly, trying not to wake Carole. Ever since Blaine had come home with him, Carole had become a light sleeper.

'_You're not going to hear him if he needs anything. He's quiet and two floors away,' Burt grumbled as Carole shook him awake for the third time that night._

'_I swear I heard him, Burt. Will you just go check on him, please?'_

_Burt swore under his breath._

'_Carole, I've checked on him twice. The boy is fine. If you're so sure he needs us why don't you go?' He heard Carole huff impatiently behind him._

'_He doesn't trust me like he trusts you, Burt. If he does need someone he's not going to want me, he's going to want you.'_

'_For Christ's sake, Carole. It's been two days. He's not playing favourites, and he doesn't like me any more than he likes you. Hell, I don't even know if he likes either of us at all.'_

_Burt turned to face his wife, instantly regretting his words as he saw her face. He reached out to her, but she pushed his hand away._

'_He's just a baby, Burt. He's a little boy who is hurt and scared and alone. He may not like us – he may never like us – but dammit, Burt, he needs to know that we're here for him. Of course he doesn't trust any of us, but as much as he doesn't trust you, he trusts me less. Go check on him. Now.'_

_Burt swallowed audibly and nodded._

Sighing again, Burt made his way quietly to the door. Rounding the bed, he felt his foot land on something warm and fleshy and alive.

"SHIT," he cursed, jumping backwards and stumbling against the bed.

"Mr. Burt – "

"Oh, thank God, kid." Burt shook with relief as Blaine's voice filled the air.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm so very so – "

"It's okay, Blaine." He chuckled humourlessly. "You scared the bejesus out of me."

"Mr. Burt please I'm –"

"Burt? Blaine? What's going on; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just – Blaine was sleeping on the floor and – look, I really wanna know what's going on here, but after that I really gotta go, so just…hold tight for a few, okay, bud? I'm not mad at you, but I really just need a few."

Carole sat straight up when she saw Burt's hand drift over his heart, his breathing shallow and ragged.

"Burt…"

He turned and smiled weakly at her, giving her the thumbs up before he left the room. Once he had gone, Carole turned her attention back to Blaine.

"Mrs. Carole, I'm so-"

"Shhh, honey. It's okay, come here, baby. Calm down, you're okay."

Blaine crawled out from under the bed and over to her side, shaking terribly. As he reached her she shifted her body into the center of the bed and lowered the blankets.

'C'mere, baby. It's okay."

Blaine placed his hands hesitantly on the edge of the bed and eyed her carefully. He didn't like keeper beds. He didn't like them at all. But he had snuck into the room, and he had woken his keepers. If she wanted him to come to the bed he would go. He had to. He always had to.

Blaine crawled in beside her. Carole adjusted the blankets around him and stroked his hair gently.

"Why were you under the bed, baby?"

The boy shook against her body as she continued to run her fingers through his hair soothingly. He let out a small whimper. Carole cooed beside him.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

"Mhm."

"What happened?"

"I was being yelled at, Mrs. Carole."

"Oh, honey. What mean person was yelling at you?"

"My keepers, Mrs. Carole." Carole stiffened beside him, stilling her hand in his hair.

"Burt and I were yelling at you?"

"No, Mrs. Carole. My old keepers. And my educator. They were very loud and very angry, Mrs. Carole."

She stroked his hair again.

"Oh, baby I'm sorry. You know that you're safe here, right? They can't yell at you here, Blaine. They're far, far away from you and Burt and I would never let them near you. You're home here, Blaine. You're home, and you're safe."

Blaine relaxed and snuggled into Carole's arms but didn't say anything. Burt came back into the room.

"Everythin' okay?"

Carole chuckled softly and twisted Blaine's hair between her fingers.

"Blaine had a bad dream, he's going to sleep with us tonight."

Burt nodded and moved to the small chair beside the bed. Grabbing a decorative pillow from it, he started for the door.

"I'll be on the couch then, if anyone needs me."

"Mr. Burt," Blaine called out apprehensively, sitting up quickly.

"It's okay. I'm just giving you two more room here."

Carole moved back and gestured for Blaine to lie down again, but he wouldn't.

"I can sleep on the floor, Mr. Burt."

"No, s'kay."

"Please don't leave."

Burt paused a foot from the door and turned to face the sitting figure of Blaine. With a sigh, he made his way to his wife's side of the bed, patting Blaine's side gently.

"Scoot."

Blaine moved against Carole as Burt climbed into bed again.

"So what was this dream about, then?"

"Bad people saying bad things," Carole offered with a nod to Blaine. The boy pressed his head into her shoulder.

"Hmm. Do you have these dreams a lot, Blaine?"

The boy shrugged.

"Are they usually this bad?"

He shook his head.

"Do you think that maybe you had this dream because you're a little nervous about going in for your eye appointment tomorrow?"

Blaine didn't move. Burt reached over and rubbed his arm warmly.

"It's gonna be okay. I promise. It's not gonna be fun tomorrow, but it won't be too bad either. And after that, you'll have an eye, Blaine. A few months from now, you're already gonna have that eye, and your burns are gonna fade. You'll look like every other kid.

The boy smiled softly at his keeper. Burt began to hum softly until Blaine relaxed. Within ten minutes, Carole had fallen back asleep. Burt joined soon after. Blaine lay on his back and alternated watching his keepers.

No touching. No biting. No hurting. No sex.

Blaine giggled softly as the realization sunk in.

No sex.

He reached towards Carole and stroked a few strands that had fallen loosely on her pillow.

He was allowed to touch.

Turning back to Burt Blaine poked his cheek. Burt grunted and shifted his body with a sleepy sigh.

_He was allowed to touch._

Blaine shimmied lower into the bed, enjoying the warmth he felt radiating against his skin from both bodies.

_He was safe._

* * *

><p>Burt groaned in his sleep, not entirely enjoying the amount of heat surrounding him. As comfortable as he knew he was, he felt as though he was trapped in a leather seated car in the middle of a hot August day with the windows rolled up. There was oxygen, but it was thick and warm and smelled a little off. Grunting, he twisted his body away from the source of the heat, but the heat just held him tighter. Burt shifted as he started to wake up slowly, opening one bleary eye that was forced to close immediately as a few of Blaine's loose curls contacted his eye. Burt fought the urge to pull away quickly, not wanting to wake the boy or his wife. Tilting his head back, he opened his eyes a safe distance away from Blaine's rogue hair and lowered his eyes to see Blaine.<p>

The boy had fallen asleep facing Burt, though he was still tucked tightly in Carole's arms. One arm was over Burt's shoulder, the other clutched at the front of his shirt. Blaine's Mouth was open and he was breathing heavily into Burt's face, trapped in a deep sleep. Burt slid back but stopped as he heard Blaine whine quietly. His hands tightened their grip on Burt, and he unconsciously pulled away from Carole.

The sudden move caused Carole to stir, and she blinked slowly as she herself slowly woke up. Once open, her eyes met Burt's, and she smiled softly at him. Returning it, Burt slid himself carefully off the bed, grabbing his pillow and placing it in Blaine's arms to replace himself.

'I'll make breakfast,' he mouthed. Carole smiled and nodded before she closed her eyes again. She fell back asleep stroking Blaine's hair.

Burt padded to the door and out, starting his journey down the stairs. The house was silent. He wasn't used to this – he probably wouldn't ever be, even after both Finn and Kurt left for college. After that, it would just be him, Carole, and Blaine.

He stopped at the end of the stairs and sighed.

He hadn't even thought of when Finn and Kurt would leave. Somehow in his mind he'd managed to assume that as long as Blaine was with them, Kurt and Finn would be too. That wasn't true, though. Since he and Carole had assumed that the only adoptive they would be able to afford would be one with a terminal illness, the future hadn't been given much thought. Since Blaine had started at the shop business had begun to improve. Burt was able to spend time with customers and develop relationships with them while Blaine did the easier jobs. Burt still helped him with some things, and unless the car had been left overnight to cool off, Blaine refused to change oil. Luckily for them they were beginning to get more advanced appointments, but Burt still had to step in. Would Blaine do this forever? When they had made enough money, would they keep him at the shop, or keep him home? If given the choice, would Blaine say what he wanted to do? Would they sell him?

No. They wouldn't sell him. Ever. No matter what.

Even if buying Blaine was the worst decision they had ever made, there would be no way that they could ever let him go. As much as Blaine didn't believe it, he was family. Burt felt guilty for even having the thought. When the time came, they would have to talk to him, but for now they had to focus on Blaine, and right now Blaine needed to get ready for his eye.

Burt began to make pancakes, and by the time the others arrived in the kitchen he had already made a rather large stack.

Blaine shuffled in behind Carole, shyly smiling at Burt. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment, but he managed a small wave to his keeper. Burt grinned and waved his spatula.

No. They could never let him go.

No matter what.

* * *

><p><strong>Ohhh balls this is late. SORRY!<strong>

**Nurse Kate: Thank you so much for your consistent support and reviews, it really means so much to me, I`m so happy you`re still liking it! :D**

**Yesiamstrangegetoverit: hehehe I keep going back and forth forgetting if it`s angst or fluff, so I put both, yaay! Glad you liked it!**

**Klainey-boo: sorry I made you wait! XOXO I should be updating more frequently after the end of this week, and if not you have every right to angry harass!**

**Mybrotherharry: Thanks for coming back! :D Hehehe Klaine…hmmm what's that? :P I actually had to write a one-shot just to convince myself that I wasn't secretly anti-Klaine because I actually didn't know. Apparently I can, so I'm a little excited for this myself :P**

**The Songbirds Are Singing: Ahh, so glad Brittany came off okay! :D Thanks for the review, super-awesome friend!**

**TwistedRocketPower: Sorry for the wait! Thanks for sticking around! :D**

**Kurt Fearella: Thanks, I'm glad that's working for you :D**

**MKAlza11: *blushes* Thank you! Yeah, I know my Finn's a little off, but I really don't like S3 Finn. I've been trying to draw on S1, but if that's not working, sorry! **

**Rory46: ilu :D Thanks for the review!**

**TuuzMB: Hahaha yeah I know :P I figured that he was the first one introduced, and it wasn't going to be cray-cray Klaine, but yeah, I found it kind of funny too. Thanks again, so happy you're still liking it! I do actually like Mercedes, but she's a lot harder to write than the others – without thinking, 'oh my goodness, was that line unintentionally racist?' the whole time. I'm a little paranoid when it comes to offending people (ironically enough I'm one of the most difficult people to offend) and I don't want to say/do anything accidentally – which, of course, sounds racist in itself. If it is it's not intentional, I swear ****  
>I really do care very deeply about what every person reviewing says (I consistently check stats to see how many people have been reading – almost as consistently as I check reviews), and while I did say before that I'm writing this story for me (which I very selfishly am) I love different perspectives and ideas, and I honestly appreciate the fact that you have put in the effort to let me know what you likeddidn't like. There have been suggestions from readers that I hadn't even thought about that after I've read it I've felt dumb that I didn't see it myself because it was so awesome and fit in so perfectly.  
>Again, thank you so much, I really truly do appreciate all your reviews, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy and loved and butterfly-ie. So thank you! :D<strong>

**Fabi: Good! I'm glad it got better! :D I'm sorry I was gone for weeks but I hope that those two weeks were the BEST. WEEKS. EVER. And not bad at all. Because that would be horrible. And you must only feel good and happy things from now on, okay? Okay! :D**

**Matchbookjealousy: Thank you, so glad Brittany worked! :D I'm pretty excited for his eye too. I think I'm more excited than Blaine is. :P**

**Parmelde Lorntiere: Best friends for everyone! Whoooo! :D! I'm sorry the first part was so sad, but happy cuddles make everything magically better!**

**Iadorespike: **** Poor Blaine. I put my sad panda pants on for that one. And those are some saaad pants. One day things will get better…I hope :D**

**KlainePotter: YOU'RE TOO CUTE. So are eyes. And Blaine's already so cute, he's gonna be super doubly cute with two! :D**

**Guestie!** Klesghefg**I**fen**LIKE**eigjsnlsv**YOU!**

**Hi Rob! I'm sorry for the wait – hope it was semi-worth it!**

**One-Eyed Lady: No forgiveness needed, good friend! There is no denying that I love your reviews, but if you do not review every chapter, or you don't read for forevskies, we are still friends. I know you're there somewhere in the shadows, and I appreciate and respect that :D That being said, thanks for coming back! :D!**

**Robby Moon: Oh wow that's a lot of angst in two days! Yes, I'm actually reading it now. Sorry, I thought I'd left a note about it at the end of the chapter, but I guess I forgot. Bad plagiarizer, bad! I'll fix that!  
>Thank you, that means a lot to me. I've been writing this because I love the genre too, but things I wanted to read weren't being included in the fics I read. I'm really glad that you're liking it, and that it's different enough. Thanks again, new friend! :D<strong>

**Guestie! I think we would be fantastic crime-fighters. We should have a handshake. I'm sorry I killed you, but hopefully I can resurrect you so that I can kill you again when we get to the actual Blangst. (THIS IS A METAPHORICAL KILLING ONLY. NO GUESTIES WERE HARMED DURING THE WRITING OF THIS REVIEW RESPONSE)**

**Katie097: Maybe by yourself you can't, but together we can!…make Blaine suffer and cry and feel sad and **

**ThatKlaineShipper: It so cute 'cause you're so cute. – equality – .**

**Musicbeyondmagic: So hap-hap-happy you liked it! :D**

**Guestie! I'm glad that you like it and yes, there will be more Klaineish moments coming up.  
>I really have thought a lot about what you said about following script with the songs – and I'm so sad because I know how cheesy it is, and how it is overdone, but I really like that kind of cheese. I don't want you to think that I'm ignoring you – because I'm not trying to. I did get into a huge debate with myself over this, but eventually I did come to a compromise. When I started including songs from the show, I knew where I wanted it to end up. I know the last song I want done, and after that it's going a different way – but I want it to get to that point. I actually did think beforehand the likelihood that Blaine would sing these songs, and I got pretty lucky that canon Blaine's so top 40 that he would hear a lot from the radio. If it had been a lot of really old music no, I wouldn't have, but for now I'm going to stick with my plan. Please don't think that I'm not listening to your constructive criticism (and yes, I do agree it is constructive) because I am, even if I'm not following it. Seriously, though, thank you for that. I do absolutely love any and all feedback – I'm just really sorry that I'm not following it. I hope we can still be friends, : ( xx<strong>

**Dreadedcaptainroberts: Hello, new friend! :D You make me feel just happy, but even if you gave me other sad feels we could still be friends because you are new and shiny and read my story and yes. :D**

**ThunderboltsandCupcakesForev e: Sorry it's so late, and thank you! :D**


	26. 26 - Part One

**I am so sorry, and I hate doing this, but this is part one. Okay, reviews are up! Sorry that took so long, I love you all!**

* * *

><p>Blaine shook all through breakfast.<p>

No one even bothered to ask if he'd rather sit at the table, they just left him alone in his spot on the floor.

"Do you want some juice, Blaine," Carole asked quietly. Blaine's entire body shook 'no' as he poked his rabbit-shaped pancake with his fork, making no motion to actually eat it. "You need to eat something, sweetheart. You've got a big day today, and it's not going to be very fun if you're hungry." Blaine shook again and Carole sighed, giving up.

"We'll bring some granola bars or something in the car in case he changes his mind, okay?" Burt hugged his wife firmly, careful not to accidentally touch her with his spatula. A loud thundering sounded from down the hall, and all three braced themselves as Finn entered the room.

"Oh sweet, pancakes!"

"Finn, use a plate, please."

"Do not drink the syrup from the bottle, Finnegan. It'll taste just the same off of a plate."

"Mrhumph," Finn grumbled. Burt pushed a plate into the boy's hands while Carole passed him a damp cloth from the sink.

"Wipe the bottle, please," she instructed. Finn rolled his eyes and did as told before dropping the cloth on Blaine's head.

"Hey," Blaine whined, startled.

"Sup, man? You excited for today?"

"No."

"Why not, you're gonna get an eye. That's pretty cool. Then when you come home we can play a real game of football, right?"

Carole sighed.

"That's not how this works, Finn." The boy frowned and stared at Blaine's eye with complete concentration.

"Well, it'll look really cool anyway. Hey, can I touch it?"

"Finn!"

"What? I've never touched a glass eye before, that'd be pretty sweet."

"It's not glass, Mr. Finn. It's plastic," Blaine said softly.

"Really? Like a water bottle? Is it gonna be squishy?"

Blaine giggled.

"No, Mr. Finn., it's not gonna be squishy."

"Can I touch it anyway?"

Blain giggled again and looked up to Finn, grinning happily. He nodded.

"Sweetness."

"Mmm, smells good, dad," Kurt hummed as he entered the kitchen. Both Finn and Blaine turned to look."

"Good morning, Mr. Kurt.."

"Dude, guess what! Blaine's gonna let me touch his eye when he gets it."

"Eww, gross! I, uh, I mean, that's really cool, Blaine! Maybe I can, um, touch it too, later. That would be really…neat."

Kurt smiled apologetically at Blaine, but the boy didn't seem to mind. He was intently watching as Finn flipped the pancake bunny's ears, making squeaking 'bunny' noises as he did so.

"Finn, stop playing with Blaine's breakfast," Carole chided, sitting down with her own plate.

"I wouldn't be playing with his if I got a cool one too," he countered.

"You can have this one, Mr. Finn," Blaine added shyly. Finn grinned and ripped the bunny in half.

"Finnegan! Do not steal Blaine's breakfast."

"I'm not stealing, we're sharing. I'm giving him some of mine, too." He split his own pancake in half and dropped it on Blaine's plate before taking his own seat and starting to eat. Looking down, he saw Blaine sitting there, still not eating. "Dude, sharing means you gotta eat too. Otherwise we can't share anymore."

Blaine bit his lip and looked at Finn, who nodded encouragingly. Blaine took a bite.

Finn grinned and turned to face his mother, a satisfied smirk on his face.

'_Thank you,'_ she mouthed. Finn shrugged and went back to his breakfast.

"Are you ready for today," Kurt asked as he loaded his own plate. Blaine put down his fork and started to shake again, twisting his body 'no'.

"Dude, sharing," Finn reminded, pointing his fork at Blaine's plate. Blaine started eating again, but he still shook.

"Blaine's a little nervous – and that's okay. It's a big day." Carole smiled at the boy on the floor, but he ignored her gaze.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to be excited for you," Kurt offered, walking to Blaine and leaning down to wrap his free arm around the boy's shoulder. "You're going to look so handsome with that new eye."

Kurt stood and rounded the table to his chair. Blaine's eye followed him as he did so.

"Thank you, Mr. Kurt," he finally said. Kurt smiled back at him.

"You're welcome, Mr. Blaine."

After breakfast the five of them loaded themselves into the truck and started off to McKinley. Both Finn and Kurt gave Blaine a hug before exiting the truck, wishing him luck. Blaine didn't seem to want to let go of either of them.

When Burt pulled up to the hospital, Blaine refused to even look out of the window.

"Come on, sweetheart. It's going to be alright. I'll be there with you the entire time, I promise."

Blaine shook his head and huddled himself further into the seat, placing his hand firmly over the seatbelt buckle to prevent Burt from taking it off for him.

"Blaine, can you look at me, please?"

Blaine shook his head and hid in the seat.

"Honey," Carole started, pulling herself into the back seat beside Blaine, "honey I know you're scared, but there's nothing to be afraid of. You're going to be alright. We'll go in, and it's going to be over before you know it, okay?"

Blaine shook his head again.

"What are you scared of, sweetie?"

The boy sniffed and leaned back into Carole.

"They're going to touch it, Mrs. Carole."

"Your eye?"

He nodded.

"They're going to touch it and I don't want them to. I can't see, Mrs. Carole. I can't see what they do and they're going to do things in my eye._ In_ my eye, Mrs. Carole."

The boy hiccupped and slid further into his keeper's arms.

"Oh, baby, it's okay. It's going to be over soon, I promise. All they're doing is taking an impression of your eye socket. That's all, Blaine. They're not going to do anything to it, that's all."

Blaine sniffed a few more times, clutching Carole's jacket tightly in his hand.

"I don't want to," he whined quietly. Carole fought a quiet chuckle. He sounded just like Finn when he was younger.

"Too bad, kid," she said softly, "you gotta."

It was something Finn's father used to say to their nephew whenever he came over to visit. Finn had been too young when his father died to remember, but Henry had never been one to reason with kids. He was a kind man with a goofy smile, but he was stubborn, and whenever their nephew hadn't wanted to help clean up or wash up for dinner, Henry would just grin and nudge the boy gently, repeating the words until the boy listened.

"But I can't."

"Too bad," Carole whispered, undoing Blaine's seatbelt and sliding out of the truck, waiting for Blaine to follow. The boy looked at her with one large sad eye, sniffing loudly. He wiped his nose on his arm, causing Carole to grimace, before biting his lip and coming out after her.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Blaine held out his hand. Carole took it gently and closed the door, waving to Burt as he left for work.

"We're going to go see Mrs. Rae. She's our occularist. You'll like her, Blaine. She's really nice."

Blaine clutched her hand tighter as they entered the building.

It wasn't a long wait, but with Blaine constantly fidgeting and sniffing it felt as if they had been there for hours when they were finally taken.

"You must be Blaine," Mrs. Rae said loudly. She smiled stiffly at Blaine as he sat down in his chair.

"Hello, Mrs. Rae," he greeted quietly, shuffling in his seat.

"Let's get started."

Blaine held Carole's hand as he avoided looking at the strange tools on the table in front of her.

"I don't like this," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Carole squeezed his hand tightly and placed her free hand on his shoulder. He squeaked and jumped as the lady placed her hand firmly on his face.

"Keep him still, please," she said, voice monotone. Carole released Blaine's hand.

"Can we talk, Janette?"

The woman looked at her.

"Yes?"

"Can we talk outside, please?"

"We can talk right here."

Carole sighed and stood. Placing her hand on her co-worker's shoulder, she pushed the woman back into the corner of the room."

"Do not touch me," she warned, but Carole cut her off.

"Blaine is a member of my family. He is also a patient of yours. Now, before you tell me, yes, I know what your opinion on adoptives is, and trust me, if there was someone else at the hospital able to do this I would have asked them. That being said, you are going to do this, and you are going to do this well. You are going to treat Blaine just as you would any other patient. If you hurt him, or talk down to him, or if the impression is bad, trust me. I've worked at this hospital long enough to hear a few things. A few things that some people might not appreciate being told to others. Particularly to Dr. Roscoe's _wife_. Have I made myself clear?"

Janette bit her lip and nodded.

"Crystal."

Turning back to Blaine, she smiled warmly.

"We're going to take an impression of your socket today. I'm going to start by taking this," she held up a small flat disc with a hollow tube coming out the middle of it. "and putting it in your socket. This is an impression tray. When that's in, we're going to inject alginate using this syringe through the tube at the end into your eye."

Blaine's remaining eye grew large and he looked to Carole with fear plainly written on his face.

"It's okay, honey. It's not a shot. It's going to fill your eye socket so they can make you and eye that won't fall out, but it's not going to actually get injected in you. She'll pull it out when it's set."

Blaine shook, but nodded.

"Can you put your head back for me?"

Blaine squeezed Carole's hand and lay back, resting his head against the head rest.

"Okay, I'm putting the impression tray in now."

Blaine whined quietly, stiffening his entire body.

"Just relax, Blaine. It's okay."

"I'm inserting the alginate now. You might feel a bit of pressure."

Blaine winced as he felt the mixture enter his socket. His jaw quivered and he whined again.

"Does it hurt, honey?"

Blaine nodded.

"It feels bad, Mrs. Carole. It feels like a thumb in my eye."

Janette snorted, and Carole glared.

"I've never heard that one before," she answered defensively. "We're going to leave that in for ninety seconds, then we can pull it out, okay?"

Blaine nodded, but his breath still came out forced and shallow.

"Breathe, honey. It's okay. You're okay."

After the longest minute and a half of Carole's life, Janette gently pulled Blaine's lower lid down and slid the impression tray out.

"Good job, Blaine. I'm going to go make a mold of this, it's going to take a while so you and Carole can come back in half an hour or so, or you can make another appointment."

"We'll be back," Carole said quickly. Blaine's shoulders slumped.

* * *

><p><strong>Nurse Kate: Hehehe I need more cute Blaine cuddles in my life :P I'm really wanting to get to the Klaine, but I don't want to force anything - that wouldn't be right. We'll just be sad together until then :P<strong>

**AlexaCardew: Thanks! I'm happy he's realizing that too, makes it easier to start writing different character things. :)**

**iadorespike: I think so too :) The next shop visit is going to be pretty fun (for me) so I can't wait :D**

**Mbak Nyasar: I will allow cuddling and protecting but only if you are not dead. You might scare Blaine, and then we would have to start this all over again. He would not feel safe. *sadpanda***

**Guestie! I had to come back, I missed hearing from you :) I really like your suggestion, and I'm actually working on something for it right now. I'll definitely let you know when it's up, and I hope that you'll like it :D Haha, Wolfie works for me :D (My name's Nicole, or Nic, by the way - it's wonderful to meet you, Guestie!)**

**mybrotherharry: Ehehe thank you for sacrificing your need for Klaine, I appreciate it! There will be actual Klaine, but I think I'm going to put it in part two of this story... :)**

**Thaliana: Don't worry, there will be more Kurt very soon, and it will be semi-nice ;)**

**cellowings: Thank you! :D**

**handywithchains: That's okay! I love you no matter how much you review! Thank you!**

**Yesiamstrangegetoverit: I like you! And no problem! :D**

**MKAlza11: :D I'll get better, don't worry! **

**TuuzMB: Aww, thank you! I'm glad it made your day better! Chapter 28 is gonna be one for you, I'm writing in Mercedes JUST FOR YOU so if it's bad well... :P There definitely is going to be Klaine, but I think I'm going to have to put it in part two of the story. I have a plan for this half (yay!planning) So when this one's finished it's going to be pretty heavy. I'm sorry it's taking so long and I completely understand - Klaine is something that we all want right now, and it will happen, but it's going to take a bit, sorry :(**  
><strong>(ps your English is lovely, don't worry about that at all, you are doing marvelous! Sometimes I speak in not-quite English when I answer things, so if something I say doesn't make sense feel free to ask me to clarify, it's definitely okay :D)<strong>

**Chubipapilla: Yes! But in part two of the story :D I know, I'm making everyone wait a long time, but I don't want to push Blaine into something unrealistic. It'll happen thought!**

**BananaBat18: Ehehe yay!crying :D Thank you so much, I appreciate you!**

**The Songbirds Are Singing: Ehehe it is the bestest of best names! I'm glad you liked that chapter :D The reason I have Blaine acting so much younger than he is is because he's never been able to decide things for himself. He's lived his entire life doing what people have told him to do, and he hasn't been able to explore his own life. He hasn't developed emotionally, and now that people are asking him to use his own mind and think and even talk - he's not used to that. He's trying to learn, but he doesn't know how to respond other than by saying 'yes' or 'no'. He hasn't been allowed to so much as think too much on his own, so it's a big change for him.**  
><strong>If you ever have any questions don't worry - I don't take it as criticism. Sometimes I probably should, but if something isn't completely clear feel free to let me know. I'm doing a lot of this to help develop my writing skills, and if I'm not clarifying something it helps to know that, so thank you! :D<strong>

**dreadedcaptainroberts: I'm glad you liked it! :D**

**DarkestAngel13: It really does mean a lot to me when people who don't usually like this style give it a chance. I've read fics that have made me uncomfortable and I completely understand when someone chooses not to read this, but it does mean a lot when you do, so thank you! :D**

**Kellz: Thank you! :D **

**musicbeyondmagic: I like you.**

**ThunderboltsandCupcakesForev er: Sorry I made you wait, but I'm glad you're liking it! :D**


	27. Chapter 27 (or 26 - part 2)

**I have a few days off so I'm getting caught up on fic. Yaay! :D I added replies to reviews for both chapters, yay! I'll get my shiz together soon, don't worry! :D**

**** I made a mistake in the eye fitting process. After Blaine's eye was removed he should have worn the conformer for about 6 - 8 weeks before being fitted for his artificial eye. I can't go back to the beginning of the story and add that because a lot of other things would have to change too. Just wanted to put this in here though just in case someone needs to know that and thinks I lied to them. Well, I did, but it wasn't intentional. Sorry for the inaccurate information, but let's just say 'Glee-Logic' and leave it at that. ****

**A very large thank you to the lovely One-Eyed Lady for the info in the last two chapters. You're amazing, thank you!**

**I like you all very very much, thank you for continuing to read, even if I haven't been too reliable as of late. It means a lot, I really hope that you know that.**

* * *

><p>They walked out of the room and into the hall.<p>

"You didn't eat too much this morning, do you want to go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?"

"No, Mrs. Carole."

"Want to go outside?"

Blaine nodded. The two of them made their way outside and onto the grounds beside the hospital. Sitting down on a wooden bench, she gestured for Blaine to sit beside her. He opted to sit on the ground instead.

"That wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, was it," she asked softly. He shook his head. "I'm glad, sweetie. You're doing so well so far, I'm so proud of you."

"Can we go home soon?"

"No, honey. We're going to be here for a while. She has to make sure that the one she makes fits in your eye. Then she's going to draw on it so that she knows where to paint your iris so it matches your other eye. Then she has to paint that and when it's done she'll need a few days to do touch up work and add details so it looks just like a real eye, and then you'll get it."

"We have to stay here for days?" Carole laughed at Blaine's bewildered look.

"No, sweetie. Just until she has the basic painting done. That might take a few hours though. Are you sure you don't want something to eat?"

Blaine hesitated, but nodded quickly. Carole passed him a granola bar from her purse and he ate it quickly. Taking back the wrapper, she handed him another.

"Do you want this one too?"

Blaine shook his head. She smiled at him and pulled a pack of gum from her purse. Blaine instantly shifted away.

"Don't worry, honey. You'll like this gum, it's not like Burt's."

She handed Blaine a piece and he chewed it carefully.

"It's not cold, Mrs. Carole."

"No, is it okay?"

He nodded.

"Do you want to go back now?"

Blaine shook his head, but stood anyway.

"I want to go home," he whispered, pushing his body into Carole's. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and began to guide him back into the building.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

* * *

><p>They had to wait a few more minutes outside the office, but when they were finally admitted again, Janette greeted them both with a smile.<p>

"I'm going to get you to sit back down, Blaine, then I'm going to insert the fitting shape into your eye. I'll use that to draw the position of your iris on."

Blaine sat as she spoke. Janette picked up something small and clear from the table.

"Is that my eye," he asked quietly. She laughed softly.

"Not exactly. This is just the fitting shape. We use this one to make sure it's in okay and then I can mark where I need to put the details for your eye so it looks just like your other one.

Janette put her hand on Blaine's face and began to use her index finger to pull down his lower lid. Blaine flinched away.

"Honey, it's okay, she has to put it in, it's okay."

Blaine shook into Carole and hid his face again.

"I don't need an eye, Mrs. Carole," he whispered to her, "I don't need it."

"Blaine," the boy shifted his head and looked at Janette. Carole shot the woman a warning look, but she ignored it. "Blaine, buddy, I know this is pretty scary, and you were so brave before when we took the impression. This is the easy part, okay? This is the good part. I know it feels weird, but it's not going to be too long until you have both eyes. And when you get that eye you're going to feel like a whole new person. Do you know why? Because you were brave. You lost your eye, and that was a traumatic experience. But you survived that. You're so brave, and when you get your other eye – it's hard to understand now, but when you finally get that other eye you're going to feel so much more confident. I know how hard this is. I know you're scared, and that you don't feel whole right now. Everything's harder, people stare, and you don't like it. But you are brave, Blaine. You are so, so brave. When you get your eye, you're going to feel brave, too. Can I show you something, Blaine?"

The boy nodded against Carole. Janette smiled at him and raised her hand to her face, her index finger pulling down her left eyelid. Blaine sat straighter as the woman pulled out her own eye to show him.

"You couldn't even tell, could you?"

Blaine shook his head.

"No, Miss."

She smiled and stood, walking over to her desk to clean her hands and eye. Blaine stared after her in shock.

"What do you think, Blaine," Carole asked quietly.

"She has no eye," he whispered.

"I know. It looks pretty real, doesn't it? Dr. Rae is really good at this, Blaine. Your eye's going to look just as real as hers."

Blaine sat straighter as Janette came back.

"Want to see how I put it in?" The boy nodded and she smiled, leaning in close to show him. Blaine pulled away from Carole to watch in awe. "This is how I'm going to put yours in, too. It looks weird, and it's going to be pretty uncomfortable for the first while, but when you've had your eye as long as I have it's not going to be a big deal at all. See how I slid it in? Just relax and it's not too bad. Ready to try yours again?"

Blaine swallowed loudly and nodded. Dr. Rae smiled and stood to wash her hands before picking up the fitting shape again.

"Alright, are you ready?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Just relax, Blaine. Just a few seconds and it'll be over."

Blaine whimpered as she started to put it in, tightening his grip on Carole's hand. He yelped as it slid in all the way, shaking heavily.

"Honey, it's okay, it's okay. We already did this when she took the impression, you can do this too, sweetheart, it's okay."

"I don't like it. I don't want it."

"You're doing great, Blaine, we're almost done. Can you open your eye for me?"

Blaine raised his hand to rub at his eye.

"No, honey, don't rub it." Carole grabbed his hands and pulled them down. "Don't irritate it, you're okay."

Blaine's eye was watering heavily and he sniffed loudly.

"I know this is hard, but you're doing so good. We're almost done, I just need you to open your eye, okay?" Blaine sniffed again and opened his eye slightly. "A little more, please."

Janette pulled a kleenex out from beside her and started to wipe gently at both of Blaine's eyes.

"Sorry, Mrs. Rae."

"No more tears, Blaine. You're doing so well and this is almost over. By the time I'm done you'll have already started to get used to that."

Blaine's breathing started to slow, and after a few minutes of gentle coaxing from both Janette and Carole, Blaine finally held his eye open. Janette quickly set to work marking the eye, speaking encouraging words to Blaine throughout.

Soon enough she was done, and the fitting shape was removed.

"Is your eye sore, Blaine," Carole asked, concern laced in her voice.

"A little, Mrs. Carole."

"I'm just going to paint the iris for your eye then we'll get your conformer in and we'll be all set to go."

"Conformer, Mrs. Rae?"

"It's to get you ready to wear your new eye. You'll wear it until you get that."

Blaine started shaking again.

"Sweetheart, it's okay," Carole started, but Blaine just shook his head, took a deep breath and sat up straight.

"Can we put it in now, Mrs. Rae?"

"We can wait a bit if you want to."

"I want to get it over with, if I'm allowed, Miss."

"Of course."

Carole watched Blaine fight with himself to stay still as Janette inserted the conformer. His jaw was trembling and he had started to cry again, but he suffered in silence, gripping her hand tightly.

He stared blankly as she painted his eye, and when she had finished he gave her a polite but empty thank you. Carole shook Janette's hand gratefully, making a mental note to bring her coffee every morning for the rest of the month.

They walked to the bus in silence: Blaine trying not to touch his eye and Carole trying not to make it obvious that she was watching him.

"Now Blaine, this is really important. We're going to take the bus home, and that means that no matter how much you want to, you cannot touch your eye until after we get home and you wash your hands. Burt can't pick us up, so we don't have a choice. If you touch your eye, you could get an infection, and that is really not going to be any fun. You need to be really careful, okay?"

Blaine nodded, and they stood quietly waiting for the bus. When it arrived they boarded silently, taking seats in the back. Blaine crouched in the aisle while Carole sat beside him. No matter how much she tried to coax him, he wouldn't sit in the seat. It was only twenty minutes, but to Carole it felt longer. She knew that Blaine had been stressing about the visit for days prior, but he had seemed to deflate so suddenly before, she couldn't help but be worried.

When they finally made it home, Carole made sure Blaine scrubbed his hands thoroughly before he took himself into the living room and lay down on the couch. It was rare that Blaine would sit on furniture without permission, but he hadn't even stopped to acknowledge her. She joined him on the couch after she had washed her own hands.

"Do you want to watch a movie, Blaine?" Blaine nodded and stood. Walking to the TV, he reached for the stack of movies beside it and pulled one from the middle of the pile before returning to the couch and handing it to Carole.

"Are you sure, honey? This is a sad movie."

"I'm sad, Mrs. Carole."

"Oh, Blaine – "

Before she could finish Blaine had walked away towards the stairs leading to his room. She put the movie in and adjusted the pillows on the couch so Blaine would be comfortable. He appeared a few moments later, his blanket and Carrot clutched tightly in his hands. The boy flopped onto the couch almost on top of Carole, snuggling into her body tightly. She helped him spread the blanket over them both before pressing play on the remote.

"We haven't watched this one before, have we, Blaine."

"I watched it at Mr. Puck's house, Mrs. Carole. Mr. Puck said it was good for a good cry." He sniffed. "I wasn't supposed to say that."

"That's okay, honey. I won't tell anyone. Do you want to talk about why you're sad?"

He shook his head.

"No."

"Alright, Blaine. We don't have to talk about it. But if you want to, I'm here, okay?"

Blaine nodded into Carrot.

"Thanks, Mrs. Carole."

They watched the movie in silence, Blaine hugging Carrot tightly while Carole stroked his hair. He fell asleep shortly after the movie started.

Twenty minutes later Kurt arrived home looking tired. He sighed heavily as he closed the door behind him.

"Honey, can you sit with Blaine for me? I'm going to start dinner, but he doesn't want to be alone right now."

"Sure, Carole," Kurt sighed, walking over to the couch. "Fox and the Hound, really?"

"He chose it. Said he wanted to watch a sad movie."

"Did the appointment not go well?"

"It did, but it wore him out. He got something to wear until his eye's ready and it's not too comfortable. Can you sit with him, please?"

"Yeah, sure."

Carole stood carefully, wincing as Blaine's grip tightened around Carrot. Kurt slid into her spot and she gently lowered Blaine onto Kurt's lap. The sleeping boy sighed in relief.

Kurt rubbed his shoulders, trying not to watch the movie. He wasn't in the mood for sad, right now. He laughed as he watched Todd and Copper playing onscreen.

"You're our Todd," he whispered in Blaine's ear, "but I promise that we'll never say goodbye to you."

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><p><strong>iadorespike: Thanks! I'm glad it was interesting and not tedious :P Hope part two is okay! :D<strong>

**One-Eyed Lady: No worries, come and go as you please, I appreciate the crap out of you! I messed up the part about the conformer and I'm sorry, but I'm going to invoke Glee-Logic because I can't go back to the start and fix it, sorry :( Thank you so much for all of your information though, it really helped!**

**TwistedRocketPower: Thanks for reading! :)**

**Nurse Kate: It really does sound frightening, I can't imagine having someone stick anything in my eye socket, but he's doing okay!**

**KlainePotter: I did miss you! xx! School (unfortunately) does come first, so I understand :P When you're done your school stuff I'll let you borrow Blaine, sound good? :D**

**XALEA: Hope you liked it! :D**

**IndiaMoore: I hope I didn't make you wait too long! :D**


	28. Chapter 28

**I am so sorry this took so long. I have no excuse other than real life really started to pan out for me and I got really caught up in everything and haven't been home to type but after the 1st I'm moving to the city I've been spending all my time in so less time commuting and more time writing yay! There's a bit more of an explanation on my profile if anyone wants more detail on that.**

**In the last set of reviews I was informed that answering everyone's reviews in the A/N's might get the story taken down (thanks for the heads up) so I'll be looking into that and I'll try PM'ing the peeps I can.**

**Again, I am so sorry everyone, this was a crazy long delay and even if I lost a few people through this please know I love you all and I'm so sorry, this was an unacceptably long time, I'll try harder from now on. 3!**

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><p>Blaine was confused. When he had woken up in Mr. Kurt's arms he had been happy. He was still sore and just as tired as he had been before, but Mr. Kurt was always warm and happy – only he wasn't.<p>

"-and then she put it in my eye, Mr. Kurt. It hurt a little but I didn't – "

"That's nice, Blaine," Kurt mumbled absentmindedly as he stroked Blaine's hair. The boy shifted in his keeper's lap and twisted to lie on his back, his head moving so that he could see Kurt more clearly.

"Mr. Kurt –"

"Hmm?"

Blaine stared at Kurt, pressing his head further into his lap. Kurt hummed softly and smiled at Blaine, but he looked distracted.

"I'm glad it went well, Blaine. That's really good."

Blaine bit his lip, continuing to stare. Kurt wasn't looking at him anymore. His hand still stroked slowly through his curls, but as Blaine tried and failed yet again to nudge Kurt into looking at him his heart fell.

Was his conformer ugly? Did it make him look ugly? Kurt was very picky about how he looked: if Blaine was ugly maybe Kurt wouldn't like him anymore. Blaine turned on his side, trying to avoid Kurt's face.

Blaine was already ugly, why would the eye make any difference? Maybe Kurt didn't like that he was trying to look better. Maybe Kurt thought trying to make Blaine look normal was a waste of money. Blaine's face reddened from shame. Of course it was a waste. Getting an eye wouldn't make him see again. It wouldn't take away his scars.

Blaine sat up suddenly as Kurt shifted beneath him.

"I have homework. I'll see you at dinner, Blaine."

Kurt lightly pushed Blaine off him as he stood and made his way to the stairs, not looking back. Blaine watched him go sadly, sliding to the floor once he was out of sight. Kurt thought he was ugly. He shouldn't be on furniture. He wasn't family. He wasn't like them.

Blaine jumped as a loud noise came from where he had just been on the couch. It was Kurt's phone. Picking it up gingerly he turned it over in his hand. The screen was bright and the word 'MERCEDES' hovered over a green and red button. Mercedes was one of the girls from Kurt's school. Kurt would probably want to talk to her.

The phone stopped ringing as he reached the stairs, but he continued on to Kurt's room. Knocking softly on the door Blaine waited quietly outside. Kurt didn't answer. Blaine shifted awkwardly, phone still in hand, before he knocked again. Maybe he hadn't heard him.

"Mr. Kurt?"

"I'm a little busy, Blaine. I'll talk to you later." Kurt's voice was different. Blaine didn't like it.

"Mr. Kurt I – "

"Later, Blaine," Kurt snapped. Blaine stepped away from the door. Mr. Kurt didn't sound happy. Blaine was bothering him. He shouldn't bother Mr. Kurt. He shouldn't bother any of his keepers.

Clutching the phone tightly to his chest he stepped away from the door. He walked slowly down the stairs and into the living room. The phone started to ring again.

Biting his lip, Blaine didn't know what to do. The sound was loud and he didn't know how to make it quiet. Blaine knew that the sound would bother his keepers. He didn't want to bother them anymore.

Shoving it inside the fold of his sweater he managed to muffle the sound. He needed to make it stop. Quickly, Blaine grabbed his blanket and rabbit from the couch and dragged them quickly down the stairs with him. He stumbled a little as he made his way down, unable to focus on the stairs too far past his own feet. His blanket tangled itself around his left foot and he tripped, luckily close enough to the bottom to be able to extend his arms and brace himself against the wall in front of him. He hit the wall forcefully and slid down it sideways until he hit the floor. He cringed at the noise he made and from the slight pain in his ankle. He remained still until he was sure that no one was coming down to yell at him for the noise before he shakily returned to his feet, limping to his bedroom. Once he reached his bed the boy carefully placed his blanket on it in one large clump. Hopefully that would muffle Mr. Kurt's phone enough that it wouldn't bother anyone. Blaine placed his hand in the mound to locate Kurt's phone, wanting to ensure that it was bundled as much as possible. His eye socket throbbed lightly and the pain was slowly spreading through his head. Closing his other eye, both of Blaine's hands began to search the blanket for the phone, but it wasn't there. Opening his eye in horror he quickly stumbled to his feet and limped to his door and peered out into the hallway towards the stairs. At the bottom lay Kurt's phone, the top corner of the glass screen cracked and spidering.

Blaine had broken Mr. Kurt's phone.

Blaine had broken Mr. Kurt's very expensive, very important phone.

He couldn't breathe.

Falling to his knees he crawled to the phone, picking it up gently and cradling it softly in his hands. The broken glass was peeling up off the phone, he couldn't fix it.

Blaine started as he heard a sound coming from the top of the stairs. Looking up he saw a very tired looking Kurt coming towards him.

"Blaine, have you seen my – " he trailed off as his eyes landed on the broken device.

"Mr. Kurt, I – "

Blaine trailed off when he saw his face. He had expected him to be angry, to yell, scream, slap – not cry. He didn't expect to see Mr. Kurt standing still, staring down at the broken phone with no expression on his face, only silent tears sliding gently down his cheeks.

Blaine cautiously lifted his hands to his keeper, but the boy just shook his head.

"Keep it," he said softly, "it's broken. I'll get a new one." With that he turned and walked back up the stairs, not looking back.

Blaine sat motionless. His jaw trembled and his heart hurt as he replayed what Mr. Kurt had said over, and over, and over again in his head.

'_It's broken'_

His hands tightened around the broken glass as he pulled it close to his body. His one eye began to water as the other started to itch.

'_I'll get a new one'_

He shook his head furiously as it fell against his chest, blinking away the tears from both eyes and ignoring the pain it caused.

'_It's broken'_

Blaine could fix it, he could make it better.

'_I'll get a new one'_

He never wanted to make Mr. Kurt cry. He wished he'd yelled at him – even hit him, but not cried. He never wanted to see Mr. Kurt cry.

'_I'll get a new one'_

The boy choked out a sob as his forehead hit the floor. His body shook as he cradled the phone. He lay there for what felt like hours, hoping that his keepers would leave him alone while silently wishing that they would all come to comfort him. They wouldn't, and he knew it.

Broken Blaine had broken Mr. Kurt's phone.

Broken Blaine had made Mr. Kurt cry.

His keepers should replace Broken Blaine before he broke anything else.

He wasn't new, he wasn't good, and he wasn't right.

He curled in on himself more, the stress of the day hitting him all at once.

And then the phone rang.

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><p>Kurt sighed quietly to himself as he felt Blaine relax into his lap, still sound asleep. He'd been looking forward to coming home and heading straight to his room, but upon seeing Blaine sleeping soundly he couldn't walk away.<p>

Sweet innocent Blaine.

Kurt didn't know what had happened to him before they'd taken him in (he still had trouble admitting they'd bought him – even in thought) but he knew it was bad. Even if Blaine had come to them with both of his eyes and an unmarred face it would have been so easy to tell that the boy had been through hell and back.

And here was Kurt. Selfish, spoiled Kurt who couldn't even put up with stupid jocks teasing him and pushing him into lockers. Coming home Kurt had tried his hardest not to cry, pulling and pulling at the sleeve of his jacket to hide the dark bruise already forming. On his way he'd wanted nothing more than to be home in his room, safe in his bed with no one to tease him, no one to hurt him.

And then he saw Blaine, curled up tightly in Carole's lap with her fingers in his hair, blanket and Carrot pulled up to his chin while 'the Fox and the Hound' played softly in the background.

How could Blaine be so sweet, so innocent, when the entire world saw him as no more than a living tool – something to use and abuse without question? How could anyone hurt someone so gentle, so kind?

Why should Kurt be allowed to hide from the world when Blaine never did.

Blaine stirred in his lap as Kurt continued to stroke his hair gently. Blaine's eye stared up at him briefly, a large and genuine smile gracing his face before he returned to his former position of staring at the television, chatting sleepily to Kurt about his day and perking up slightly as he informed him of the fitting and how good he'd been. Kurt felt a lump form in his throat as he watched Blaine's chest visibly puff with pride as he relayed his tale of bravery.

"-and then she put it in my eye, Mr. Kurt. It hurt a little but I didn't – "

"That's nice, Blaine," Kurt whispered. He was proud of Blaine, he really was. He just felt so guilty for being weak, not strong like him. The boy turned his head to look at Kurt.

"Mr. Kurt," he started, concern evident in his eye. That was just like Blaine to worry about everyone but himself even when he'd gone through so much. Kurt felt as though he was going to cry.

"Hmm," was all he managed, not trusting himself to speak. He felt Blaine's head press against his thigh in an effort to get his attention.

_Don't let him worry about you. Don't let him see you're not alright._

"I'm glad it went well, Blaine. That's really good," he said with a forced smile, immediately breaking eye contact with the boy. Blaine shouldn't be worried about him, he shouldn't have to – it wasn't fair and it wasn't right. He couldn't hold it in any longer, he needed to get out. He couldn't let Blaine see him cry.

"I have homework. I'll see you at dinner, Blaine." Kurt tried to nudge Blaine off him, internally cringing at how forceful the nudge had turned out. Blaine didn't deserve this from him. He made his way quickly towards the stairs, hoping Blaine wouldn't follow him – hoping the boy wouldn't see how hard he was already crying.

Kurt had to fight to steady his shaking hands enough to not slam the door behind him before making his way to his bed, flopping down gracelessly before grabbing hold of the edge of his blanket and biting it hard to muffle his sobs.

He had no right to feel this way, none at all. So the jocks teased him, so they pushed him around, so what? He was alive and healthy and free, why couldn't that be good enough? He had no right to feel so weak, he had the freedom to fight back. He could have tried fighting them, but he didn't. It was his choice, and he didn't. Why? Because he was _scared_. Poor Kurt was scared of a few bullies. Poor Kurt didn't have it in him to defend himself. Poor Kurt could only spew out a few witty comebacks before his fear overtook him and he was rendered mute and helpless.

_Poor Kurt._

He tightened his grip on his blanket. He was so ashamed of himself it hurt.

"Mr. Kurt?" Kurt held his breath as the soft voice carried through the door. Blaine was coming to check on him. Of course Blaine would check on him. That's just the kind of person Blaine was, always making sure everyone was okay before himself. Kurt felt a pang of envy as he thought of Blaine's selflessness. And here was Kurt, lying in a pile of self-pity. He took in a deep, shaking breath.

"I'm a little busy, Blaine. I'll talk to you later." Kurt winced at the harshness of his tone, the pain that escaped through his voice.

"Mr. Kurt I – " Blaine sounded too desperate. He shouldn't care this much, Kurt wasn't worth it.

"Later, Blaine," he sobbed, cringing as his voice cracked terribly. He dropped his head down into the sheet, embarrassed and ashamed of himself. He never wanted to cry in front of Blaine.

He sobbed harder as he heard Blaine's gentle footsteps lead away from the door. He'd upset him. Blaine had so much to worry about, Kurt shouldn't add to the list.

Pushing himself up Kurt made his way to the vanity, staring at his blotchy face and red eyes, willing them both away. He needed to apologize to Blaine, show him that it was going to be alright.

Taking a few moments he steadied his breath and watched as his face began to return to its normal colour. His eyes were still pink but he'd have to rely on the hope that (and he hated himself for the thought even before it finished in his mind) Blaine would be Blaine and refuse to look him directly in the eye.

He let out a deep breath and made his way from his room downstairs. He'd expected Blaine to be back on the couch or in the kitchen with Carole – somewhere close to people. He never said anything, but Kurt knew how much Blaine loved and craved the company of others. He wasn't much of a socializer, but he seemed to find comfort in being near others.

But no. Blaine, his blanket, and Carrot were all gone. His room, maybe? Had Kurt hurt his feelings enough he wanted to be alone? How bad did Blaine have to be hurting that he would rather be alone?

He started down the stairs to Blaine's bedroom when he saw the boy in question kneeling at the bottom.

'_Blaine, I am so sorry I was short with you, I'm just tired from school.'_

'_Blaine, I didn't mean to snap at you, I had a bad day and I'm sorry I took it out on you.'_

'_Blaine, I'm bullied at school and I hate that I'm not strong enough to deal with it like you.'_

He meant to explain, he really did, but he saw the outline of his phone in Blaine's hand and he felt so close to breaking again. It would be so much easier to use the excuse that he had come for his phone than to explain himself. He could start small with the phone and go from there. Maybe he wouldn't need to explain. Blaine was Blaine, and if Kurt just spoke to him, maybe he would be forgiven.

"Blaine, have you seen my – "

And then he saw the screen. The broken screen of his expensive iPhone. An iPhone he could no longer afford to replace. His broken iPhone. He hadn't bothered to check it after the jocks had left. He'd been too concerned with getting home unnoticed to look at his stupid phone that the stupid jocks had destroyed.

"Mr. Kurt, I – "

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Why the stupid phone felt like the last straw he didn't know, but he could feel himself breaking. He couldn't even feel the tears rolling down his own face. He didn't want to do this anymore, didn't want to feel this way. Didn't want to be this weak person, but he didn't know what else to do. He saw Blaine raise the phone towards him but he shook his head, not wanting to see the damage his bullies had caused up close.

"Keep it," he said softly, "it's broken. I'll get a new one." Kurt turned and began walking back up the stairs, hoping that his words would ease Blaine's mind, that he wouldn't worry that they had no money to replace it or that Kurt was upset it was broken. He hoped Blaine - strong, amazing Blaine - wouldn't be upset by it, that he couldn't see how hurt and upset and broken Kurt was. Because that's how he felt.

Kurt felt as though he was cracking, breaking, and he couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't strong like Blaine.

He was broken, like the damn phone.

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><p><strong>As this is the first one I've written in 3 12 months I understand that it might not be up to par. If it isn't (I will not be offended in the least) please let me know. If it's a tone thing, doesn't make sense, out of character, ANYTHING please let me know and I will edit it until it gets back on track.**

**Again, I love you all and sorry there are no review replies :(**


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